Incubus
by Miss Shannon
Summary: When nightmares become reality, Sharon needs her team's support. (Raydor/Flynn) - Sequel to "Rusty Beck - Marriage Broker"
1. Chapter 1

**Incubus**

**by Miss Shannon**

**A/N**: This is the sequel to "Rusty Beck – Marriage Broker". It is going to be a bit different but before the drama starts, enjoy the fluffiness. :-)

**Summary**: When nightmares become reality, Sharon needs her team's support. (Raydor/Flynn)

**1**

It was the perfect day for a wedding. The sky was bright blue and the sunshine dazzling. The air, however warm, was fresh and of exceptionally low humidity with a soft breeze that wafted past bare skin like a caress. Sharon Raydor, inexplicably nervous, stopped in her tracks and turned towards the young man in front of her. She shook her head slightly and reached out to correct the position of his tie that hung slightly askew. She then took half a step back and took in his appearance. The once lanky teenager had put on some weight and some muscle over the past few months and his shoulders looked broader. His blonde hair was still unruly and several strands were reaching down to his eyes from where he impatiently brushed them away every few minutes but he could not be talked into a visit to the hairdresser.

"Sharon, you're staring," Rusty complained and somewhat longingly gazed towards the building they were about to enter.

"I'm sorry!" She gave a little wave and a nervous laugh. "I am just admiring just how nicely you've cleaned up."

"Sharon," Rusty said earnestly. "You've been staring at me like this for minutes at the opera. Don't you think you'll get enough of the sight of me in a suit someday?"

She chuckled and reached out to hold on to his arm while the resumed their walk. "I don't really think so," she said and leaned her head against his upper arm for a moment, wondering when exactly he had outgrown her so much.

"I think you're just admiring your handiwork, Sharon. You have a knack for fashion."

Sharon gave a satisfied hum in response and followed her ward into the entrance hall, all the while still holding on to his arm. She could tell from Rusty's relaxed posture that he did not mind her clinging to him like this. They had grown so close over the past few months that she had no reservations about physical closeness anymore. At this point, kissing his forehead or running her hand down his back felt as natural as it did with her own children and Rusty seemed to agree. He was now truly a part of her family that seemed to be ever-growing nowadays. Six weeks after their visit to the Haunted House that had set off an avalanche of events, Sharon had found her small apartment crammed with her loved ones. She strongly suspected her mother of being eager to both make Rusty more comfortable by not having him dragged to Utah for Christmas and to meet Andy Flynn because she had insisted that this year she wanted to come to L.A. for the holidays. Rusty had looked adorably nervous when Sharon had introduced him to her son and daughter. Laura had always been open-minded and rational like her mother and had therefore welcomed Rusty warmly right away. James had taken a little longer to warm up to his new brother but the discovery of their mutual enthusiasm for a certain TV show had helped to quickly establish ties between the two boys. Sharon's mother Susan was the person Sharon had worried least about and once again proved to be the warm-hearted woman that she was and accepted Rusty right into her line of grandchildren.

Sharon liked thinking back to those three days that had been filled with so much love, fun and happiness despite the fact that the sleeping arrangements had been a bit difficult to work out. It hadn't taken Susan long to talk Sharon into inviting Andy to have dinner with them just before everyone was about to leave. Shortly before he was due to arrive, however, she'd almost suffered a nervous breakdown about whether her kids would like him or not. Laura, had gently calmed her down and told her that it was high time she found someone she liked. Again, James had taken longer to warm up to the new man in his mother's life, but after Flynn had left, he had called him "a pretty cool guy" - though grudgingly.

"Now you're staring into space, Sharon. It is rather disconcerting." Rusty's dry tone made her narrow her eyes at him.

"And here I went thinking that I had taught you some manners, Rusty," she said sharply but a small smile betrayed her affection.

"Wuss," Rusty quipped.

"Chump," she retorted.

"If I'd known that you already have a date, I wouldn't have bothered with showing up," a deep voice behind them said and Sharon felt a hand on the small of her back. Rusty quickly edged away from her and complained about "old people sex" under his breath while Lieutenant Andy Flynn took a quick look around and then pulled Sharon into his side to press a kiss to her lips.

"You know, it's not as if you hadn't seen each other in ages," Rusty pointed out in an annoyed tone that Sharon knew to be only an act for his own amusement as well as theirs. "In fact, I heard him leave this morning. By the way, Andy, you still owe me five bucks for those ear plugs."

Sharon looked from Andy to Rusty in shock, wondering whether they were joking or not. "Ear plugs?" she asked feebly and felt the heat creep into her cheeks.

"Don't worry. He's kidding, Sharon!" Andy said quickly.

Sharon smoothed down her cream-colored dress and adjusted its slim belt around her waist in order to distract herself from the horrible implications of Rusty's needing ear plugs when Flynn was around. Keeping it together at the office was difficult enough. At least after that first night, they had always managed make it to the bedroom. Sharon had vowed that she would forever keep from Rusty that her first night with Andy Flynn had started out on the couch for fear that he would refuse to ever sit on it again. And sit on the couch they did a lot lately. Sharon had lost count of the number of nights she had spent shivering and hiding her face in Andy's or Rusty's sweater while both of them never got tired of seeing her squeal with fear at the countless number of horror movies they had in their possession. She knew she should be happy that they got along so well but sometimes she worried about how often they seemed to be teaming up against her. Despite their difficult situation as both lovers and co-workers, their relationship had been smooth sailing so far. At work they did their best to stay away from each other even though they had definitely had their slip ups. Sharon wasn't sure how much the rest of the squad knew but she was sure that they were at least suspecting them as it was difficult for them to hide how close they had become. Even though they didn't touch and rarely even arrived together, she knew that one could tell from the way they talked to each other and especially the way they looked at each other that they were not just mere co-workers anymore. There was just too much intimacy between them.

She preferred to keep them in the dark, however, for as long as possible, as it was bad enough that Lieutenant Provenza was in the know. Andy's best friend was milking the situation for what it was worth and was having more fun with it than she had thought humanly possible. Sometimes, though not especially often, Sharon and Andy texted each other during the day to say things they could not voice aloud for fear of being overheard. Also, they were trying to keep their time alone in her office to an absolute minimum in order not to attract even more attention. Most of the time their texts were about where they would go for dinner or contained rather silly little messages like "I miss you" or "I can't wait to be alone with you." One day, during a staff meeting, however, Andy had sent Sharon a text from the other end of the conference table. She had checked her phone as Lieutenant Tao had been deeply immersed in a lengthy lecture on profiling and had found a message reading "Hey hot legs. I thought our rules forbade you from wearing skirts like this to work. I cannot concentrate." She had hidden her smile by pretending to look stern then had quickly typed back. "Would it help if I took it off?" Seconds later, her phone had buzzed again. Flynn had written. "I will do that for you tonight, I promise." Sharon hadn't been able to repress her smile this time and had looked up and subtly shaken her head to warn Flynn to resume. Upholding professional standards definitely did not involve sending sexy texts in the workplace. And she was pretty sure that this was where this was going. Despite her quiet admonishment, her phone vibrated again and she checked the screen, slightly surprised to find that it wasn't Flynn but Provenza this time. The message read "Stop the sexting in the workplace already! You're disgusting." When she looked up, she could see from the look on Andy's face that she had not been the only recipient. Needless to say, they had never texted during a meeting after that.

When they reached the flight of stairs that led towards the hotel's generous patio, they stopped for a moment.

"If you want to go on pretending, you should take your hand off her ass," Rusty said, barely able to hide his grin.

"My hand is not on her-" Andy began but then just narrowed her eyes and took his hand off the small of Sharon's back. "But good point, Rusty."

"I aim to please," Rusty said loftily and walked ahead to where white tents housed a dance floor and tables to the backdrop of a thin stretch of white sandy beach adjoined by the calm sea whose tiny waves were sparkling in the sunlight. Flynn leaned in slightly while they were still hidden from the other guests' view. "Before I have to go back to being your colleague, let me tell you this: This dress is amazing on you."

Disguised by the folds of said dress, Sharon squeezed his hand affectionately and whispered her gratitude. Although their little game of pretend certainly had its upsides – especially when they were finally able to let out the passion that had been forced to stay bottled up all day in the evening – she would have preferred to be able to be on Andy's arm and steal the occasional kiss right now. Maybe he had sensed her melancholia because he gave her one of his boyish grins and tilted his head slightly.

"If you think that I won't dance with you just because you are my boss and our whole squad is here, you are sadly mistaken, Captain Raydor."

She muffled her giggle with a fist and then began to descend the stairs after Rusty to greet the bride and groom. Amy Sykes looked breathtaking in a tight white dress that, like her, was unadorned but absolutely beautiful in its simplicity. With her hair pinned back to give emphasis to her elegant neck and the flowing fabric of the gown pooling around her feet, the last thing she looked like was an ambitious no-nonsense police officer. She smiled brightly when they approached her and stretched her hand out for Sharon.

"Captain! I am so glad you could make it!"

Sharon smiled and shook her head, very conscious of the fact that Andy was hovering over her shoulder, probably out of sheer habit. "Please, Amy. It's your wedding. Let it be just Sharon for today." And with that, she gave the younger woman a quick hug. "You look absolutely stunning," she said, amused by Amy's happily surprised expression.

"Thank you. Please meet my husband, David." Sharon shook hands with the tall good-looking man. None of them had even known Sykes was in a relationship, let alone engaged, up until that moment when she had invited all of them to her wedding reception. Apparently, she had been with her soldier boyfriend for years without ever mentioning a thing. Sharon approved of Sykes' discretion and ability to divide her personal from her professional life while Provenza had complained, cracking one stupid joke after another. She suspected that he was just miffed that something had escaped his attention.

When they moved away from the couple that had turned to the next set of arrivals, Sharon spotted Rusty talking to Provenza at a nearby table, glasses of champagne in hand. She headed towards them, trenchantly deprived her foster son of his glass and handed it to the passing waiter.

"There is going to be no underage drinking on my watch," she said sternly.

"Hello to you, too," Provenza interjected.

"Sharon," Rusty whined. "It's a special occasion and I will be seventeen next month!" Sharon put her arm around his shoulder. "The legal drinking age in this country is 21 which renders your argument invalid. Go stuff your face with candy like kids do." She gave his shoulder another affectionate squeeze and turned to Provenza.

"Hello, Lieutenant. And thank you for keeping my boy from drinking," she said sarcastically.

"Champagne is not alcohol," Provenza objected halfheartedly. "You look pretty good, Captain. As wicked witches go, I mean."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Flattery will not get you out of this. Especially not when it is laced with insults." Regardless, she was touched by his compliment. Even after all this time, no friendly words would pass Provenza's lips to benefit her if they weren't absolutely true.

"This is a wedding. You shouldn't be having arguments." Tao had appeared with his wife by his side who hugged Flynn and Provenza in turn and extended her hand towards Sharon to introduce herself. "Isn't that a beautiful dress, Amy is wearing there? I am a little jealous." The petite Japanese gave Sharon a wide smile.

"Me, too. I got married in the eighties. I think it's safe to say that I looked as if a tulle shop exploded on me." Their subsequent laughter ringing in Sharon's ears, she was involuntarily propelled back to an appointment she'd had a few weeks ago.

Barbara's office building was comprised of steel, glass and elegance, making Sharon wonder why she had never visited before. Her heels clicked on the polished wooden floor that should have looked out of place but didn't when she approached her best friend's office. When she poked her head around the door, Barbara jumped up from behind the desk and rounded it in one swift motion to come over and hug Sharon.

"Why do you always look like you're about to do a photo shoot?" Barbara asked in mock annoyance when she stepped back to take in the view of her friend. Both busy with demanding jobs, they didn't see as much of each other as they would have liked. Barbara gestured towards a group of chairs and a table in one corner while Sharon was trying not to be distracted by the stunning view over the city. "Being a partner in a major law firm seems to have certain benefits," she remarked dryly.

Barbara gave her familiar bark of laughter. She was less tall than Sharon with a reasonably slim but somewhat square body and slightly frizzy curls that she kept cropped at the chin. Barbara had a closet full of largely identical looking black suits and white shirts and didn't bother with fashion any more than she did with make up. With a few scattered pale freckles, regular features and clear gray eyes, she was not a stunning beauty but inspired confidence right away. Maybe that was why she was so successful in her profession.

"Let me repeat this so I can cherish it," Barbara said, closing her eyes with pleasure. "You are here because you have finally come to your senses and you are going to divorce that despicable little cockroach."

"His name is Charles," Sharon corrected softly. Barbara had hated Charles with a passion from the second they'd met and had been trying to talk Sharon into divorcing him for years. Despite her busy schedule as a first year associate, she had been a rock for Sharon back when she had gotten separated. It was around that time that she had taken up calling him "The Cockroach", usually decorated with colorful adjectives. "Despicable" was actually quite tame compared with what she usually came up with.

"Good of you to remind me as I have to put his name on the papers, too." Barbara grinned. "I hope he'll agree to no-fault. There isn't much for him to gain due to that formidable prenup that super talented young lawyer drew up back then. What was her name again?" She chuckled and reached out for Sharon's hand. "I'll make sure this goes as smoothly as possible, okay, Sharon? You know I am just messing with you because I am happy for you."

Sharon placed her hand on top of her best friend's and nodded. "I do, Barbara."

Sharon hoped desperately that Charles would not try to sabotage her attempt to finally free herself of him completely. Besides the legal ties between them and their children there wasn't much that linked them anymore. Sharon had always kept her own surname. When James was born, she had put Raydor on his birth certificate. Laura, who'd initially borne her father's surname, had been a toddler so Sharon had been able to change her name, too, without confusing her. Financially, they had no ties whatsoever. Sharon had never claimed any sort of spousal support as she had her own job and came from family money. The need to provide for her children had surpassed her pride and she had found herself accepting support from her parents that she had paid back dime by dime when her grandmother had died and left her a substantial part of her fortune. Her inheritance now allowed her to live comfortably, indulge in her habit of shopping for designer clothes and easily put both of her children through college without her husband's help. Now she was more than ready to get rid of him altogether.

"Is there a special reason for the sudden change of heart?" Barbara asked in a confidential tone that practically reeked of irony. As Sharon's resident best friend, of course she was well -informed about most things that were going on.

"Yes," Sharon replied with a smirk. "And then there's this other thing," she added, suddenly less nervous. "I would like for you to look into adoption procedures."

Barbara's eyebrows shot up in surprise which soon turned into joy. She grinned mischievously. "So he said yes?"

It had taken Sharon weeks to gather up the courage to finally talk to Rusty about the possibility of an adoption. When the time had come, she had skirted the issue for almost ten minutes before stammering the words. Her concern had been unnecessary, however, as her foster son had gladly welcomed the idea.

"I should charge you for this," Barbara groaned jokingly and scribbled down notes on to her legal pad. She looked up and gave Sharon another grin. "By the way. Is he debating taking your name? Because Rusty Raydor has a terrible ring to it. You know, like a rusty radar. Can radars corrode?"

"Would you like a drink, Sharon?" Rusty's voice snapped her out of her reverie and she gave him a confused smile, blinking against the sunlight that suddenly seemed brighter.

"I'll have whatever you're having Rusty."

It was a big party with many guests but the Major Crimes team kept together near the balustrade from where they had a beautiful view over the sea. Sharon looked at her team with a neutral expression by means of which she tried to hide her affection for them. Everyone was in elegant suits and even Provenza had managed to find a tie that was not in danger of inducing nausea. They stood together, chatting animatedly, drinking champagne and enjoying the easy comradeship that now characterized their relationships. Sharon was glad that Sykes had invited them all and she enjoyed spending time with them away from work. Rusty appeared next to her and handed her a large cocktail glass that was adorned with an assortment of fruit and several multicolored cocktail umbrellas. She raised the glass to be able to inspect its contents and pursed her lips. "Is that Pina Colada?"

"A Virgin Pina Colada," Rusty corrected with a wide grin. "As you forbade me from drinking."

"You did this on purpose," Sharon snarled.

"Did what on purpose? You said you were having whatever I was having?" Rusty asked with feigned innocence. Sharon set the drink down and picked a piece of watermelon to eat while glaring at her charge. Flynn appeared at her side and set his cranberry juice and soda down. She looked around for potential witnesses and then stole a sip. Rusty leaned in with a smirk.

"You know, if you're trying to make them believe you're not together, you're doing it wrong."

"Thank you, Rusty," Sharon said pointedly. "Now go and get me one of these."

"I just got you a drink!"

"Yes, but you know that I hate coconut flavor as well as cream."

"You never used to hate cream," Rusty pouted.

"I do now."

Rusty shuffled off and took Provenza with him who was tremendously enjoying the champagne if the rate he was downing glasses at was anything to go by. Tao had swept his wife off to the dance floor where they were swaying from side to side along with several other couples. Sanchez looked a little taken aback but then walked towards Sharon and Andy to toast them with his glass of champagne. Sharon raised her abhorrently decorated glass and then quickly set it down again without drinking from it.

"You're giving Rusty a hard time today," Sanchez observed.

"Oh no, that's just for show," Sharon explained, waving her hand dismissively. "Anyway, he'd deserve it. He's such a prankster."

They fell silent for a moment during which Sharon enjoyed the breeze that brought the smell of the sea and she was almost sure she could taste the salt on her lips. She didn't spend nearly enough time at the beach, she thought and resolved to take Rusty and Andy there soon. While they usually got their way in terms of weekend activities, this time she would put her foot down. Speaking of feet, she really felt like sitting down for a while. A chilled glass of cranberry juice and soda appeared in front of her and she turned towards Rusty.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she said sweetly.

"Good god, Raydor. What's with the restraint? You should be having champagne. It's delicious!" Provenza drawled from where he had appeared at the other side of the table.

"You mean before there's nothing left because you drank it all?" Flynn asked with a fair share of disapproval. He usually didn't comment on other people's alcohol intake but he could tell by the way Provenza walked that he was already tipsy. And a tipsy Provenza usually made for a flirty Provenza. There were far too many attractive women around he could embarrass himself in front of and Andy thought it his duty to prevent his friend from making a complete fool of himself. Once again. Sharon chuckled, sipping her drink contently then raised her hand to wipe a few strands of hair her from her face that had been dislocated by the wind. Treating her like his boss and his boss only on a daily basis was becoming more and more difficult. He understood why she was so adamant about keeping up appearances but it wasn't easy to be around her all day without being allowed to touch her or even look at her for too long.

Provenza raised his glass. "It's a happy occasion!" At least he was a happy drunk and not a violent or depressed one, Flynn thought. If anything, Provenza was known to become a little sappy when he'd had too much. "Sykes found someone who puts up with her! It's a miracle!"

Sanchez laughed and Sharon shook her head, not completely able to erase the smile from her face.

"Look, old boy, why don't you have a nice glass of water or a cup of coffee before you indulge in more champagne?" Flynn signaled for the waiter while Rusty looked on, smirking.

"You are such a bore, Andy. It's a party. I am enjoying myself." Flynn could see a familiar expression forming on his friend's face which made him nervous. It was mischief, paired with just a little bit of sadism. Provenza turned towards Sharon and offered his hand, bowing slightly. In Provenza, it looked goofy rather than courteous. Sharon stared at him in surprise and threw a panicked look at Rusty when the lieutenant grabbed her hand.

"Would you give me this dance?" he asked and dragged her off without waiting for an answer. Flynn watched Sharon stumble slightly then catch herself. Provenza didn't hate Sharon half as much as he pretended to and sometimes Flynn suspected that he even had a soft spot for her. Needless to say, it was not a notion he liked to dwell on. Six months ago, the three of them had spent New Year's Eve together as Flynn and Provenza always did and Rusty was at a friend's party. Actually, Sharon hadn't wanted to intrude on their boys' night but in the end Provenza had ended up inviting her to join them because, as he put it, he couldn't "take her sad eyes anymore".

At first he had made a big show of her being out of place in his house but at the same time he had patiently explained each and every one of their little weird traditions to Sharon. In the end, he had cracked up a bottle of old scotch and he and had shared. They had drunk themselves into state that closely resembled easy companionship. In fact, a completely sober Andy had looked on with spooked fascination as they had laughed uproariously and patted each other on the back, taking turns with telling stories from back in the day. Finally, around five o'clock he had dragged Sharon home and put her to bed after which she pretended to not remember anything past midnight. He knew that she did, however, by her little smile whenever Provenza's name was mentioned. Provenza, in turn, claimed that he had only been nice because of the liquor.

When Flynn watched them sway rather awkwardly, he couldn't suppress his laughter that was soon joined by that of his fellow squad members.

"Man, he's a bad dancer!" Sanchez chuckled, almost spilling his drink. "Poor Raydor."

"I like how Tao is dancing so elegantly right next to them!" Rusty pointed out and, indeed, it made quite a contrast to Provenza's clumsy attempts at a waltz.

"Somebody should rescue her," Sanchez said with a sidewards glance at Flynn who knew that it was a test.

"Good idea. Rusty. Go dance with your mom!" he commanded the kid who initially reacted with a shocked gasp before his face turned into a smug expression.

"Why don't you go and dance with her?" he asked silkily. "You do like her, don't you?"

Sanchez's gaze was burning into Flynn's side and he felt profoundly uneasy so he took a sip of his drink. "Not as much as Provenza, obviously," he finally said and was relieved to see that the tension evaporated as Sanchez cracked up with laughter. "Anyway," he grabbed Sharon's abandoned purse from where it was sitting on top of their table. "I might try a different approach before he injures her fatally." He walked over to where Sharon was now very obviously trying to evade Provenza's stomping feet and held out her purse.

"Sharon, your phone's ringing," he said. "Screen says it's Taylor."

Despite the fact that she thought work was calling, Sharon smiled in relief. "Thank you, Andy." She disengaged herself from Provenza and gave him a slightly terrified smile.

"Sorry, Lieutenant Provenza. Duty calls. I'll see you later." She reached out her hand for her purse but Flynn just put his own hand on her back. "It's too loud over here. Let's go somewhere quiet." He lead her away from the dance floor and into the direction of the stairs that led towards the beach. "There's no phone call," he told her as soon as they were out of earshot.

Her eyes lit up with humor. "So you just made up an excuse to rescue me? How sweet!"

"Don't be too flattered. I just wanted to avoid having to massage your feet for hours again."

"That was only that one time!" she protested but allowed him to lead her down the stairs and on to the beach. A few chairs were scattered in the sand but he walked right past them and towards a more secluded spot where a couple of palm trees shielded them from view. He sat down in the sand and patted the spot beside him. Sharon shook her head slightly and then slowly lowered herself down. He could see that she was checking whether they could be seen from the patio and found herself satisfied with the result.

"Now we're down to sneaking away," she said and intertwined her fingers with his. "How very romantic, Lieutenant Flynn."

"Too bad it's lost on the pragmatic likes of you," he teased and cupped one of her cheeks to kiss her. Despite the fact that they had been spending the better part of the past seven months' nights together, kissing her still excited him. Maybe having to pretend at work that took up a great deal of their time helped to keep things fresh and new. He rested his free hand on her hip and gently ran it over her stomach. Sharon shrieked and he loved the sound despite the fact that her mouth was currently dangerously close to his ear.

"Damn you, you should know by now that I'm ticklish," she giggled and put her hand on to his to stop it from tickling her any further. They resumed their kiss to the rushing of the sea that drowned out the sounds of the music from upstairs and relaxed both of them to the point where they lay down in the sand, her head on top of his chest.

"Did you really look as horrendous as you said in your wedding gown?" he asked.

She turned her head and blinked against the bright rays of the sun. "Absolutely. We all did. It was the eighties, Andy. Ugly was a fashion requirement."

He chuckled. "I need to see that picture one day."

"I'll see if I can find it somewhere. I put it away a long time ago."

"I know you did." He kissed her again. "I know that nothing is ever easy and that little situation we got ourselves into isn't getting any easier, but I would really like to make you happy."

Now it was her turn to reach out to touch his face. "You know you are, Andy."

There was a momentary silence, then she sat up. "We need to go back to the party. No one will believe me if I say that a routine call from Taylor – most unusual on a Sunday, I might add – took that long."

He grinned. "Are you questioning my excuses for you?"

"Oh no," she said, planting a gentle kiss right next to his nose before getting to her feet, her shoes now in her hand. "I am very grateful for the rescue, whatever the circumstances. Lieutenant Provenza is the worst dancer I have ever had the misfortune of having to share a dance floor with."

"He has many talents, but dancing is not one of them," Flynn agreed.

"Especially when he's drunk."

"Open bars will do that to people."

They took some time getting the sand off their clothes and then headed back to the party. Provenza was busy chatting up a busty blonde that looked less uncomfortable than Andy would have expected so they passed him and returned to their table where Sanchez was standing with Buzz. Sharon greeted the tech and then turned towards Tao who was enjoying a poisonous-looking green drink with his wife.

"Where's Rusty?" she asked to which Tao furrowed his brow. "I thought he was with you, Captain?"

Sharon instinctively turned towards Flynn in alarm. Under the table, he squeezed her hand reassuringly. "He's somewhere, I am sure. Maybe scoring something to eat?" All squad members could see the concern in their Captain's eyes and immediately volunteered to take a look around while Sharon called Rusty's phone. The sound of a siren accompanied by a stern voice reciting the words "Danger, mom's calling!" over and over made them all turn around. Tao bent down and picked up a now battered iphone from under the table. Two large cracks ran along the screen so the words "Sharon Raydor calling" were barely readable. Andy's hand tightened on Sharon's shaking arm.

"I am sure there is an explanation for this," he said in a deep, quiet voice that was meant to reassure her but quite obviously had no effect.

"He always takes care of his phone," she said in a hollow voice. "you know he does. He would never-"

For a moment she looked as if she was going to throw up or to faint or maybe both so Flynn signaled for the others to start their search for Rusty and led Sharon to a nearby sitting area. "Sharon, you need to sit down."

She walked gingerly towards one of the rattan lounge chairs and shakily lowered herself into it. He kneeled down opposite her and took her shaking hands between his. She looked at him and a strangled sound erupted from her throat.

"Something happened. I know it did," she whispered. "and I was sneaking off to-"

"You need to breathe, Sharon," Andy reminded her.

"I left him alone, Andy. If something is wrong, if something happened to him-"

"Sharon," he interrupted her. "There could be an innocent explanation for all of this. And even if something happened, he is a sixteen year old and you left him with Sanchez and Provenza. It's not as if you'd left a toddler unattended."

She could see that she was uncomfortable with her outburst and that she was trying to compose herself. Sharon straightened up and took a deep breath, squeezing his hand. He could see the clouded look that reflected from her eyes whenever she was distressed but trying to hide it. He had seen it the last time Rusty had gone missing. Only now it was a hundred times worse.

"We'll find him," he said insistently. "It is all going to be okay, Sharon."

He could see in her eyes that she didn't believe him.


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

After Sharon's initial reaction to Rusty's disappearance, her subsequent calm was almost frightening. Her shoulders were squared, her lips tightly pressed together, her arms folded in front of her chest as if she was trying to keep herself from physically falling apart. Andy could see how the fingers of her right hand kept clenching and unclenching almost imperceptibly, her long nails leaving angry red marks on the bare skin of her upper arm. He couldn't hear her through the glass that separated the squad room from the superior's office but he knew that her voice was clear but subdued. He was well aware that he could hardly sit next to her and support her while she talked to the head of Missing Persons, but he longed to anyway. Standing here with the rest of the team, doomed to watch her suffer, felt wrong although given the circumstances it was the smartest thing to do. Sharon really didn't need the additional stress of people finding out about their relationship right now. At some point they would have to go public but he could tell that now was not it.

Neither the team's quick search of the premises nor a more thorough quest had turned up any results. It was as if Rusty had disappeared off the face of the earth. Despite her growing concern, Sharon had been adamant to not disturb Amy Sykes' big day so that they had quietly and unofficially interviewed the guests – but to no avail. Nobody had seen or heard anything. The Major Crimes division did not usually deal with abduction cases or missing persons in general so they called the LAPD's specialists and agreed to meet their head, Tom Stevens, in their office while a team would resume the search for Rusty. Usually missing persons only became relevant to the LAPD if they'd been missing for at least 48 hours but since Rusty was a material witness in a soon to be tried murder case and a high-ranking police officer's ward, procedure was sped up considerably.

He hesitantly took his eyes off Sharon and regarded his squad mates, biting his toothpick hard. His habit was the one thing in him that Sharon hated with a passion. She never said so but he could tell from the look on her face. At this crucial moment, however, he needed it to keep him sane. It was either that or a stiff drink and the latter was naturally out of the question. Sanchez was staring at the whiteboard that so closely resembled theirs with a look that suggested that he was willing to kill someone. His arms were tightly folded in front of his body, his hands clenched into angry fists. Tao had taken up residence at the conference table, typing away at his laptop and there was an anxious trait around his mouth that Flynn had never seen before. He had a teenage son, too, Andy remembered. He could probably imagine what Sharon was going through right now. Buzz was leaning against the wall, fondling with the hem of his suit jacket. He looked extremely uncomfortable and kept glancing over at Sharon with a worried expression while Provenza was pacing which served to make everyone even more nervous and frustrated.

Andy could see why: Taylor had impressed upon them that the matter was out of their hands. Missing teenagers were not exactly their area of expertise and their personal involvement in the case forbade them from investigating it. That, however, had not kept any of them from accompanying Sharon. Andy was glad for it, not only because of the fact that his presence would not be questioned but also because it meant that they cared for her, too. He was sure that they would have done this for Chief Johnson just as gladly and this only showed that Sharon's hard work had paid off and that she was not the hated outsider anymore. Also, when the times came, it would make it easier for them to tell them about the developments in their personal lives without dreading their reaction too much.

He looked back at Sharon who had placed a hand over her mouth and was nodding without taking her eyes off the bulky, half-bald head of Missing Persons. Commander Stevens was not exactly known for his gentleness and Andy could see from the way he was acting in Sharon's presence that he still associated her with FID. She stood her ground but her pallor gave away her true state and he wasn't happy with it.

Stevens' eyes bore into Sharon's and she suddenly longed for the glass of water he had never offered her. He was brilliant at his job but she could tell that he was affected by his personal opinion of her. Three years ago she had investigated one of his men and despite the fact that she had found him not guilty of improper conduct in the end, Stevens still resented her the investigation in the first place. She could tell from the way he leaned back in his chair and did not show any sign of empathy towards her although she was visibly shaken. She just needed to get through this, Sharon reminded herself, so he could do his job and find Rusty.

"Can you be sure that he did not just run away?" Stevens finally asked the question she had been dreading all along. Given Rusty's history she was sure that she would have a hard time convincing the commander.

"Yes. Absolutely. Rusty wouldn't do that."

Stevens' brows shot up. "He used to be a hustler who lived on the streets. I wouldn't put a little vanishing act past him if life in catholic school got too boring." He toyed with the binder that contained Rusty's file and shrugged, awaiting her answer.

"He's been living with me for a year now, Commander. I know him. He is happy and we actually started looking into adoption a few weeks ago. I don't see a reason for him to run away at this point."

Stevens was visibly surprised by her admission and leaved through the file again, stopping at a picture of a grumpy-looking Rusty. His eyes were questioning and deep down Sharon could see why.

"Trust me on this. He is not my only child-" she began but he cut her off unceremoniously.

"He is not your child, Captain Raydor. And that is exactly the point. Maybe he realized that he doesn't want to be." The unspoken "and I can see why" hung between them like a bank of fog. Sharon felt stung but remained adamant.

"I do know that but he is happy with me. We have become very close."

She could tell from the way Steven shifted in his seat that he was going in for the kill. She wasn't able to foresee what exactly he would throw at her now, but she instinctively braced herself for something uncomfortable at best and painful at worst.

"Are there any recent developments in your own personal life that Rusty might have resented?" He gave her a confidential smile that came off sly rather than comforting. "A new relationship maybe? Or any other developments that might have made him feel threatened?" He turned his head slightly and gazed through the glass at Sharon's team then grinned at her.

"Anything you'd like to share, Captain Raydor?"

His old resentments still ruled his bearings. He was clearly suspecting her of having an affair with one of her subordinates and he exercised his right to ask her anything that could help his investigation in order to gain information on her that would most definitely end up on her successor's desk in FID. She watched his eyes travel from Provenza to Sanchez, then to Flynn and back to Sanchez, bore her nails more deeply into the already sensitive flesh of her arm and winced. Sharon knew for a fact that her relationship with Flynn didn't bother Rusty at all and as for "other developments", she preferred to keep Rusty in the dark for now. There was nothing there that could have made Rusty bail on her like this. Especially not in the middle of a party that they had been enjoying together. Her gut-feeling told her that something had happened so she leaned towards not telling Stevens about Flynn and her. Then again, her denial would be on file and might, at some point, come back to haunt her. In the end she settled for part of the truth and hoped that he would not ask any follow-up questions that would make her lie to him.

"I have been in a new relationship for about seven months but I know for a fact that Rusty doesn't mind."

She could see from the slight flaring of Stevens' nostrils that he had picked up the trail. "Do we ever know for a fact what is going on inside the head of a teenage boy?" Stevens asked but silenced her by means of a raised hand before she could object. "Aren't you actually married, Captain Raydor?"

Sharon felt intruded upon and it made her skin crawl with discomfort. "I am, but my husband and I have been separated for years and I have recently filed for divorce," she said and suspected that her catholic upbringing was what made her feel like she needed to explain herself.

"Does Rusty know about it?"

"I don't see why this would be relevant to his disappearance but no, he doesn't."

She had not anticipated Stevens' next move and therefore she was completely startled by the fact that he nimbly rose to his feet all of a sudden and stretched his hand out for her to shake, very clearly dismissing her. "Maybe you should go home now and see whether he turns up. I'll have someone call you with any new questions or developments."

Professional courtesy would have required him to offer her to observe his investigation but he was obviously not prepared to grant her that. Sharon strongly suspected that he would not have even bothered with the investigation altogether if Rusty hadn't been an important witness in a high profile case. She rose to her feet, too, and immediately felt defenseless in only her sleeveless dress, so she adjusted the belt around her middle to regain some semblance of professionalism.

"Thank you, Commander Stevens," she said woodenly, then walked out towards her squad. She could feel his eyes burning into her back and was endlessly relieved when Flynn made no move to close in on her or even touch her. Like the rest of the team, he looked at her expectantly but in silence.

"They'll look into it," she said in the unfamiliar throaty voice she had answered most of Stevens' questions in. "You can all go home now." She made to leave before her emotions would get the better of her but turned around when she had almost reached the door. "Thank you for being here," she added, her voice barely above a whisper. "I very much appreciate your-" She nodded to calm herself and then added "support". She could tell that her people were taken aback but she needed to get away from everyone right now. Despite herself, she clung to the tiny ray of hope that Stevens was right and that Rusty had just run away. If he came back, home was where he would go and where she would be waiting for him.

* * *

Rusty noisily dropped his backpack and shoes to the floor and his keys jingled when he placed them onto the table opposite the door. He could see from where he was standing that the French windows were wide open so Sharon had to be home. He walked into the living room and found her on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and blinking sleepily against the sunlight that was streaming in. When he stepped into her field of vision, her gaze cleared up and she smiled. Her hand felt for her glasses on the coffee table and she slid them on to her nose before she sat up slightly.

"You're on the couch in the afternoon?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no!" she said quickly, obviously trying to dispel his concern. "I just felt like a lazy Saturday, that's all. How was the game?"

"It was okay. I only went to humor you, okay? Football isn't my thing at all."

She shrugged. "It's a social event. I just wanted to encourage you to meet with young people your age."

He rolled his eyes at her and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge then slumped into one of the armchairs facing the couch. He had left her sitting in the kitchen in her padded bathrobe this morning and though he could tell that she had washed her hair since then, she hadn't bothered with her usual immaculate make-up or outfit but was wearing her favorite black cardigan and a t-shirt. He couldn't see her legs for they were hidden under the blanket but he strongly suspected that she was wearing the old baggy set of black sweatpants she liked so much.

"It's kind of nice outside. Warm, also. Why are you holed up in here under a blanket?"

Now it was Sharon's turn to roll her eyes. "Andy is coming over with lunch in a minute. I told him to get me something with bean sprouts from that organic restaurant near his house but I am sure that he'll bring something else for the two of you. There is a burger shop right next door."

Rusty grinned. "Sweet. Your boyfriend is picking up lunch for us. He sure knows how to make himself useful. Do you have any plans for this afternoon or are you just staying here to cuddle on the couch?"

Sharon blushed slightly which made Rusty chuckle. She was extremely cautious when it came to displays of affections towards Flynn in front of her foster son. In fact, it had taken Rusty's initiative to make her realize that it was okay to have Flynn over for dinner or on weekends. Rusty could tell that she didn't want to impose her new relationship on him but he couldn't have minded less. Flynn was not some stranger that she expected him to like but someone Rusty knew and trusted. Also, teaming up against Sharon with Flynn was far more fun than Rusty would have ever expected. He was used to much worse. Before his mother had ended up with the boyfriend she had been with when she had abandoned him, she had gone through a series of men, none of them particularly likable. They had never been in the same place for long and Rusty had been confronted with a new man every few weeks for most of his childhood. It was also safe to say that his mother had horrible taste in men. None of them had been as intelligent, friendly and caring as Flynn was and none of them had treated his mother, let alone Rusty, with the same respect that Flynn did. Although Rusty liked to pretend to be grossed out whenever they held hands or kissed, he actually liked seeing Sharon so happy with someone he actually thought was good enough for her.

"Yes, we thought we might just stay here and watch a movie or something. You're welcome to join us."

Rusty sipped his water. "Not if it's one of your peculiar French independent movies again. I would like to see something with a plot, for a change."

Sharon made a little noise of contempt and snuggled back into the sofa cushions she had piled up at one side of the couch. "I didn't realize your horror movies had plots."

"Because you can't hear the dialogue over the sound of your own shrieking," Rusty informed her.

"I didn't think it was relevant," she shot back. Somehow she looked nervous to him and her reaction to his teasing lacked its usual vigor. And indeed, he could see her fumble with the hem of her blanket before she looked up at him and grazed her bottom lip with her teeth unconsciously. "Look, Rusty," she finally began. "There's something I'd like to talk to you about."

Rusty sat up with a start. Issues that required a preface like this one were rarely pleasant and Sharon looked as if she was about to step in front of a firing squad. For the first time since he had set Sharon and Flynn up with each other, it occurred to him that they might have a future planned that did not involve him. Maybe she was tired of having him around when she wanted to spend time alone with Flynn. Maybe she was tired of always holding back in front of him, of always having to worry about whether she would embarrass him. Maybe he had gone too far with his teasing and she found him obnoxious. Or maybe it was something completely different. Maybe her sleeping on the couch in the afternoon when she hadn't spent the previous night working meant something. Maybe her exhaustion meant that she was ill. Cancer, maybe. Maybe taking care of a teenager was too strenuous for her and she was about to tell him that she had to get rid of him. Rusty's heart started thundering and he pressed his hands against it in order to stop it beating away so furiously. To his utter relief, Sharon reached out for his shoulder and smiled.

"Don't worry! It's a good thing. I'm… I have no idea how to say this without sounding patronizing, um. I was wondering whether-" She gave a self-conscious smile. "I am making a fool of myself here. Rusty, I was wondering whether you would like to live with me permanently. I don't think I really have to tell you just how much I have grown to care for you... If you are okay with it, I would like to ask Barbara to look into our options when it comes to adoption."

Rusty stared at her, his mouth gaping open. This was the last thing he had expected and while the shock slowly began to wear off, happiness was starting to bubble up inside him. She didn't want or need to get rid of him! Quite the opposite was true. He got up and sat next to her on the couch. Sharon sat up, too, and moved her feet to the floor in front of the couch in order to give him more room. He suddenly vividly remembered the first time they had been in this room together. Back then it had been him on the couch and Sharon had been sitting in the chair in a dark suit with her glasses on. Now she was here right next to him in casual clothes, combined with slightly messy hair and a sheepish expression. He realized that at some point he had started to love her. While he felt protected by her, sometimes he felt the sudden urge to protect her in turn. He had gotten to know the different sides of her, her playfulness, her laughter and had seen her weaknesses, too. She was not looking at him and her hands were at both of her sides as if she was steadying herself against the couch, breathing in and out slowly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching out a hand for her.

Sharon turned and gave him a watery smile. "Just a little nervous."

He couldn't help but chuckle when he realized that he had not yet answered. "Sharon, I would love for you to adopt me," he finally said and watched her face light up with relief and joy.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel obliged to agree to anything just because I am acting erratically."

"Sharon, you're not. And I don't feel obliged to do anything."

There were many things Rusty knew he should have said but he couldn't voice a single one of them. He would have liked to tell her that he still thought a lot about his mother, that he missed and loved her, but that Sharon had also shown him by being the exact opposite of his biological mother, that being a mother was more than Sharon Beck could handle. He secretly longed to see her again and sometimes he hoped that she would just appear before him and hug him to tearfully tell him that she was sorry, that she had turned her life around and given up her violent boyfriend and the drugs. He would never forget his mother or even fully give up on her, but that didn't influence his relationship with Sharon. In fact, the two Sharons both were his mother in a way and he very much wanted for this one to be his legal one. He watched a smile form on her face and reached out to embrace her. They had come a long way from hardly looking at each other to her touching him and kissing his forehead or cheek to say goodbye in the mornings, but it was usually her who initiated physical contact, even though he very much appreciated it. He could feel her body tense with surprise when he slightly awkwardly crushed her against his chest. Unlike his own mother, Sharon didn't smell of wine, cigarettes and cheap perfume. Her scent was more natural and clean and he only realized now that he had somehow grown so accustomed to it, that it gave him comfort. Sharon caressed his back and rested her head against his shoulder while he inhaled her scent.

Rusty kept his eyes tightly squeezed shut. If he could recreate the scent in his nostrils, if he could remember how her arms felt around him, maybe when he opened his eyes he would be back in her living room and Flynn would burst through the door with the food and a string of jokes about organic take-out. Maybe he could just go back to the quiet afternoon and the smell of hot chocolate and the ringing of Sharon's laughter in his ears. When he opened his eyes, however, he found the exact same thing that he had seen the last time he had: Absolute and impenetrable darkness. He almost cried out when it hit him but then muffled his agonized sounds by pressing his lips tightly together. His wrists hurt where they were bound together on his back and his knees collided painfully with a hard object whenever the floor started trembling again. He felt dazed and unable to shake off the exhaustion that seemed to beckon him to fall back into velvety darkness and to succumb to his memories of better days when he had felt safe and loved. Rusty felt his heavy eyelids droop again and returned to blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

Andy arrived at Sharon's condo only minutes after she had and found her on the couch, her arms propped up on her thighs and her face hidden in her hands. Only one of the lamps sitting on either side of the couch was lit, the only other source of light being the lights of the city that were visible through the panorama windows. He put his key back in his pocket and approached her to carefully sit down next to her and place his hand on her bare shoulder. He let it rest there and felt it tremble slightly underneath his fingertips. Her skin was cold and so he grabbed her favorite cashmere cardigan that she kept in the living room for easy access and wrapped it around her shoulders. Sharon finally raised her face and he could see that her eyes were swollen and puffy. Keeping the silence, he helped her into the sleeves and pulled it together in front of her, resting one hand on her stomach and one on her back while she cried. Sharon was strong and independent and he knew that she wasn't used to having a man by her side in times of need, so he decided to keep his meaningless words of comfort to himself. Despite the fact that it broke his heart to see her like this, instead he would wait until she was ready to reach out to him. It took her minutes to finally calm herself down but he could see her defenses come back up slowly until she took a deep breath and turned towards him. He withdrew his hands from her body and took her outstretched hand instead.

"Thank you for being here," she said in a firmer voice than he had expected her to be capable of producing at this moment.

"Always, Sharon."

She gave his hand a squeeze but then got up and started pacing up and down, her face not visible in the half-darkness.

"I can't just sit back and let Stevens handle things," she complained. "I know he's good at his job but he refuses to take this seriously."

"I understand what you're going through, but I am afraid I have to agree with Taylor. You're far too invested in this to handle the investigation right now."

She stopped to look at him and for a moment he worried that she would shut him out for disagreeing with her. Then she just shook her head and returned to the sofa, the momentary rush of energy already depleted. "I just feel so helpless. Sitting back and letting them do their job feels an awful lot like sitting on my hands and doing nothing while Rusty is out there-" She cut herself off, fighting tears again.

"I know it's hard," Andy agreed. "And I hate to say this because it sounds so plain, but it's late and we should try to settle down for the night. The LAPD has dispatched all available units and Missing Persons is in full swing. They won't stop working for the night just because you get some rest."

"Rest?" Sharon shook her head. "How can you worry about this right now?"

"Sharon," Andy made sure not to touch her since he didn't want her to feel patronized. "Maybe Rusty will be found, soon, but if he isn't, you have a few hard days ahead of you. You need your strength and keeping it up is probably the most sensible thing right now. When Rusty is found, he might need you. You're exhausted as it is. Don't make it worse by wearing yourself down."

Sharon took a deep breath and nodded, touching his cheek lovingly. "You always know the right thing to do, Andy."

"Except when I manage to get caught up in one of Provenza's messes once again," he tried a little joke. Sharon reacted with a sad smile but he could tell that she was grateful for the little attempt at humor. He couldn't imagine how tense she had to be.

"How about you get changed for bed and I make you some hot chocolate?" he asked.

She started to shake her head. "I don't think I can stand-" she began but he cut her off.

"I'll make it anyway. You don't have to drink it. It'll be just fine sitting on your nightstand."

He watched Sharon pick up her phone from the coffee table and carry it towards her bedroom where he joined her ten minutes later with the promised beverage. She was in her pajamas but hadn't bothered to take her make up off. Her dress lay discarded on the dresser instead of being neatly hung inside her abnormally large closet like things usually were when she undressed herself. He placed the mug on the bedside table as promised and stood by her bed, a little unsure as how to proceed.

"Would you like for me to stay here tonight?" he asked and was relieved when the incredulous look on her face told him that she hadn't asked him to because she had just assumed that he would. He loosened his tie and rolled it up carefully to place it on the dresser next to her now crumpled dress. Despite the fact that he felt at home in her bedroom since that was where he spent most of his nights nowadays, he tried to keep his natural chaotic streak under control when he was with her. While every other room bore signs of Rusty – his school books in the living-room, his soft drinks in the fridge and his toothbrush in the bathroom – this was the only space in the condo that was still purely Sharon's and therefore he didn't want to disturb it too much. There was a large bed adorned with many pillows in earthy colors and a dresser that hosted numerous pictures of her children at different ages. Andy particularly liked one that showed a very young Sharon cowering on the floor with each of her arms around a toddler, all three of them smiling brightly. He took off the rest of his clothes and climbed into bed with her.

"I don't think I will be able to sleep," Sharon said and turned around to bury her head in his chest. He ran his hands gently down her back, silently agreeing with her. He probably wouldn't be able to sleep either.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **It's a little shorter than usual, I know. It just seemed like a good place to stop. ;-)

**3**

Andy Flynn woke to a tender kiss that was placed on his temple and he felt the back of a forefinger caress his cheek gently. Not quite fully awake, he felt drowsily leaned into the touch and felt warm, slightly moist lips part with his skin to travel down to his mouth. He reached out a heavy arm to wrap it around Sharon and pull her into him to savor another few minutes of sleep, limbs entangled and bodies pressed close to each other to share warmth. Only when his fingertips brushed her waist, he realized that she was not wearing her soft pajamas anymore. The fabric beneath his searching hands turned out to be that of a suit and when he finally opened his eyes, he found her fully dressed in all black. Her hair was as meticulously done as usual and her elaborate make-up almost hid the fact that she was exhausted and had been crying silently for most of the night. As with wakefulness the memories of the previous day returned, Flynn sat up with a start and reached out for her. The bedside clock told him that it was well before six.

"You're not going to work, are you, Sharon?" he asked and noticed too late that an accusing note had crept into his voice. She turned around with a start and glared at him.

"What do you think I should be doing instead, Andy? I am going to go insane if I stay here. I hardly slept a minute last night."

He quickly disentangled himself from the sheets and suddenly felt guilty that he had enjoyed at least a few hours of fitful sleep while she had been wide awake with fear all night. She still looked angry but remained standing by the dresser, unable to pull away when he approached her. He felt a little stupid standing opposite her like that, just in his boxers and a t-shirt while she was fully dressed and looked like the Sharon Raydor he had come to force himself to view as his boss and his boss only. Which didn't mean that he didn't have to fight the urge to touch her every single minute of every single day.

"I didn't mean to sound like that, Sharon, but nobody expects you to go to work in a situation like this. Maybe we should stay here and wait-"

"We?" she asked and he started to feel hurt before he realized that she had a point. "What will people think if the both of us do not show up for work?" She crossed her arms. "They'll make the connection pretty quickly, don't you think?"

He rolled his eyes helplessly. "You sure you're up to this?"

Sharon placed her hand on her forehead and turned away, obviously unwilling to have that conversation, but Andy knew he couldn't let her off the hook that easily.

"Sharon," he said softly. "Don't do this, okay?"

He was relieved when she allowed herself to look at him again, but the sadness in her eyes made his heart sink. Her eyes looked greener than they usually did which he knew instinctively stemmed from the fact that she had been crying. He had never seen her cry before and it hurt him to see her like that without being able to do anything that would comfort her. The hard edge around her jaw softened and she tilted her head slightly, her lips trembling.

"What if he really ran away? What if he found out?" She took a deep breath that did nothing to calm her but at made no move to walk away from him. Still, Andy could feel that she was distancing herself emotionally and he decided that he would not have it.

"Sharon, that's absurd. There is no way he could have found out!"

She looked doubtful but nodded anyway, averting her eyes again. She had probably been awake all night, running all of the possible scenarios in her head. Maybe she had concluded that this one was the least hazardous. If Rusty had run away because he had discovered her little secret she had a reason to feel guilty but she didn't need to worry as much as she would have to if someone had taken him. If his iphone screen was shattered because he had hurled the phone at the ground in anger and frustration, he wasn't in as much danger as if someone having smashed it in order to cut Rusty off of all communication with her. Andy could see why she chose feeling guilty over feeling helpless and he respected her decision but he felt obligated to also remind her that her guilt might be misplaced.

"Sharon," he began but she raised her hand to stop him.

"Don't tell me it's impossible because we both know it isn't. There are a million ways even the best kept secrets can leak out. Maybe we should have told him before he found out by himself. Maybe he's right to feel betrayed. We've kept from him-"

"Sharon," Andy said firmly. "Stop winding yourself up. If he's angry, he's probably going to be back to confront us. If that isn't it, we'll find him. And there is nothing wrong with keeping this from him for the time being. You said yourself that it wasn't the right time yet."

She closed her eyes and took another deep breath then gave him one of her slow nods that he had long since realized weren't meant to reassure him but herself. When she spoke, her voice mirrored her gestures as it was clear, every syllable pronounced more sharply than necessary:

"Let's not talk about this now. I'll make some coffee while you get dressed."

He closed his eyes, her heels clicking against the floorboards while she walked away.

* * *

The sun warming his skin. The idle clicking of ice cubes in a chilled glass. The faint, peaceful sound of the waves momentarily drowned out by the music that accompanied dancing couples, skirts swooshing, heels clicking and laughing couples smiling at each other. Provenza's slightly slurred drawl in his ear. A soft breeze ruffling his hair. Little bubbles shooting to the surface of the golden liquid. Casual glances. A grin. The taste of champagne. The smell of the ocean. Salt on his lips, mingling with the alcohol. Guilt and pleasure at the same time. A casual glance around. Where's Sharon? There she is. No.

Rusty woke, gasping. His thoughts were elusive, always slipping away. All he was provided with were memories, scattered and as difficult to hold on to as a fistful of sand. Had there been sand? A searing pain in his forehead momentarily deprived him of those memories, of the ability to remember or think clearly. When the pain subsided slightly, he felt something hard and smooth under his cheek. Tiles? When he tried to move his legs, he felt that he couldn't. Something was blocking them, but the ground was still now, no longer swaying. No rumbling, no humming, no sounds of the outside. It was quiet here. Too quiet. Rusty opened his mouth to scream but found that he couldn't. Something was holding his lips together, drowning out every sound he tried to make. He could produce a guttural moan but it was no use in alerting anyone to his predicament.

He stilled, trying to open his heavy eyes but found that he couldn't. A heavy cloth seemed to be wrapped around his head, depriving him of the chance to get a visual of his surroundings. Panic started rising again but he fought it down. He couldn't do this now, couldn't succumb to the fear. The heaviness of his limbs told him that he had been drugged. Life on the street wasn't pleasant and he had scored whatever drugs he'd been able to come across. Pills mostly, a bit of cocaine on a good day. Dope, when he was panicking. He knew how it felt when it wore off and he had a suspicion that they had put him under by means of something. He remembered a stinging smell invading his nostrils and then darkness. Perpetual darkness that still lasted.

He tried to move but couldn't and the horrible reality began to sink in: He was doomed to wait, motionless, his limbs stiff, his throat dry as sandpaper until they – whoever they were – would come to get him.

* * *

On any other day, Sharon would have marveled at the pure beauty of her surroundings. The ocean's calm surface looked like liquid silver, reflecting the light of the rising sun. The air was still cool but held the promise of a beautiful summer's day with the spicy scent of nearby trees and the smell of the sea. She felt like leaning against Andy's car for a moment to revel in the beauty of nature, to empty her mind of all of her worries and fears just for a second, but a restless part of her refused. The gravel crunched beneath her stiletto heels when she walked from Andy's car to her own that she had left in the hotel's parking lot the previous night because she hadn't trusted herself to drive. The silver car gleamed in the sunlight and she felt a sting in her heart when she saw Rusty's sweater in the backseat. She had told him a thousand times to keep his things in his room and not leave them laying around her living-room or her car. Still, she was now glad that he kept disobeying her rules for she had something to hold on to, something of Rusty's that would remind her of the way he smelled. Her heart contracted at the sudden images that invaded her mind, uninvited and wounding: Rusty, dead in a river. Rusty, shot. Rusty, stabbed. Rusty, abandoned by the highway, a gash across his chest. She had seen so many dead bodies that her subconscious was capable of conjuring up those disturbing images with ease. She gasped but squared her shoulders. Andy was waiting in his car, watching her, and she didn't want to worry him any more than he already was.

She approached her car and extended a shaking hand to open the driver's door, when she froze. There was a pristine white envelope clamped under the windshield wiper. Numb with shock, she reached out for it then paused. The rules. She opened her purse and retrieved a pair of rubber gloves that she had difficulties pulling over her trembling hands. As soon as she had succeeded, she grabbed the envelope and turned it over, realizing that it was unmarked. There were footsteps on the gravel and she knew that it was Andy even before he lightly brushed her hip with his hand.

Both didn't say anything when they opened it and stared at the simple typewritten note. When her knees gave way she wasn't sure whether it was due to dread or relief.

* * *

"You shouldn't be carrying all of this," Andy said simply which caused Sharon to swivel round and raise a challenging eyebrow at him.

"And why would that be, Andy? Do you find me incapable of, oh-" She adjusted her arm to catch the grocery bag that was threatening to slide down her body and tumble to the floor.

"That's precisely why," Andy told her with a wicked grin and gestured towards Rusty who was carrying a six pack of water bottles. "Could you give Sharon a hand here, Rusty?"

"Why don't you do it yourself? These bottles are a bitch to-"

"Rusty!" Sharon said with a warning in her voice. "Language."

Rusty rolled his eyes, took one of the grocery bags from her and gave Flynn a calculating look. The lieutenant raised his free hand in mock defensiveness. "Somebody has to unlock the door, right?"

Sharon led the way towards the house, a grumbling Rusty and a smirking Flynn in tow. It had been a long day and dusk was already falling. She walked carefully with the grocery bags partly obscuring her vision and her mind already on the dinner she was about to prepare. When she had told Andy that she liked Italian just before their first date, she had kept silent about her own ability to conjure up tasty pasta dishes. Her husband Charles, unpleasant as the marriage had been for the most part, had always praised what she could do with as little as some fresh tomatoes, spaghetti and a clove of garlic. Due to her hectic schedule, Andy had not yet had the opportunity to taste it and so she had decided to use this rather quiet week to treat him and Rusty to a home-cooked meal. Actually, her pasta was to be enjoyed accompanied by a nice Chianti but naturally that was out of the question and when she thought about it, Charles shouldn't have had it either. She rarely cooked anything fancy but she actually found that simmering pots and steaming pasta possessed a definite soothing quality. It took her mind off her work and she knew that she needed it right now.

Andy unlocked the front door and held it open like a gentleman for her and Rusty who headed straight for the elevator. Both recoiled at the smell of too much aftershave that still hung inside the small cabin although it was empty and even Andy wrinkled his nose at it.

"Would you rather take the stairs?" he asked, offering to take the grocery bags from Sharon but she shook his hand, smirking painfully. "Some people seem to have no sense of smell," she remarked dryly but trailed off when she saw the horrified expression on Rusty's face. She regretted the fact that she was carrying grocery bags now as she could not reach out for her foster son's shoulder.

"Are you alright, honey?" she asked, causing the boy to give her a startled look. He looked as if he had seen a ghost and the slight jerk of his head upon being addressed made her think that he had slipped off into another world for a second. He looked from Sharon to Flynn and produced a smile that did not look at all genuine.

"I'm fine. Thank you, Sharon."

* * *

"Thank you." Sharon accepted the offered glass of water and took a generous draft, feeling better almost instantly. The sound of her setting it down on the tabletop in front of her made both her and Tom Stevens look up at the same time, their eyes meeting over the desk. For the first time, she could see anything other than apprehension there but given the circumstances, it did not give her any comfort at all. She leaned back in her chair in order to create an illusion of calm and strength while her insides were in tremendous uproar.

"Are you feeling better?" Stevens asked, sounding almost concerned but Sharon wasn't fooled. She couldn't be sure that he wouldn't use anything she said against her and she knew from experience that emotionally distraught people were most likely to give away things they would rather not share under less dire circumstances. It was all too possible that Stevens' concerned façade was merely an act, that he was prowling like a predatory animal and she would certainly not grant him the satisfaction of seeing her break down in front of him.

"Yes," she said in a deliberately clipped voice. "What do you make of this? You're the expert." She was aware of the fact that she sounded condescending, but she was well beyond the point where she cared about the nature of her relations with Stevens. The man ran a hand through his barely existent blond hair and shrugged.

"Looks like your usual ransom note to me. Not personal." He consulted the simple white sheet of paper that had been folded once in the middle and read: "Captain Raydor, if you want to see Rusty alive, provide 600.000 dollars and wait for further instructions." Stevens crinkled his forehead which gave his face an expression that looked almost worried. "It is clearly addressed to you, Captain. But it would be weird for this to be just about money, wouldn't it? More than half a million dollars- how would a cop have that kind of money?"

"As a matter of fact, I do have that kind of money." Sharon wasn't one to brag about her financial situation. She liked nice cars, expensive clothes and her luxurious condo, but she never talked about how she had acquired the means to afford all of it. Her grandmother had been a rich woman and all Sharon had to do was let the money work for her while she continued to pay her day to day expenses by means of her captain's salary. Being well off financially was definitely not something that made an FID officer any more likable in their fellow cops' eyes and contrary to public opinion, Sharon did care about whether she was being liked or not. Even if she had to cross people in order to do her job properly, otherwise she liked to keep details to herself that might cause others to dislike her.

"Really? I had no idea FID paid that well. I guess I have to consider a transfer." He gave a smirk that clearly spoke of his distaste of her.

"I inherited my grandmother's estate years ago," she explained through angrily clenched teeth. "However, I do not advertise the fact that I have substantial funds. I don't know of anyone who knows about it, actually, besides close family and friends."

Stevens leaned back in his chair, the backs of his hands coming together, his fingers intertwined. He suddenly looked as if he was lurking. Like an animal about to strike.

"What about that boyfriend of yours?"

Sharon braced herself. She knew that she had to be especially careful not to give herself away. On the other hand, she had to avoid lying, too.

"He is above suspicion," she said curtly and desperately hoped that he would drop it despite the fact that she knew better. He'd gotten a whiff of blood and he would not let it rest, now. Stevens was a talented cop and talented cops were usually able to see through facades just like she could. Sharon was a reasonably good actress when it came to hiding her emotions, but she was not perfect and she knew it.

"Is he? How is that? Does he have an alibi for the time of the abduction, Captain Raydor? And by the way, where were you when Rusty vanished?"

Sharon was fighting dizziness by now. There was no answer to his question that would dispel his doubts in her. She could not just make up a boyfriend but she couldn't give up her and Flynn's secret relationship, either. Stevens detested her. It wasn't just simple animosity but a deep, burning desire to hurt her. She could see it in his eyes. Granted, he was just as eager to bring Rusty back as she was – it was his job after all. But she knew instinctively that he was out to get her and that his questions were designed to make her trip over her own indiscretions. He knew that she was hiding something, could probably tell from the way she was uneasily crossing and uncrossing her legs from time to time. He wasn't trying to find out what it was because he thought it might further his investigation, she was sure of that. It was purely personal and his professional conduct was just an excuse to cover that up.

"I was down by the beach," she said quietly. "talking to Lieutenant Flynn."

Stevens now looked like a cat that was about to descend on its unsuspecting prey, his body rigid with tension. "Lieutenant Flynn?" he drawled silkily, a sneer beginning to distort his features. "The same Lieutenant Flynn that was with you this morning when you found the ransom note?"

She gave him a hard stare that she hoped would reinstate some of the equality between them. "Yes. The same Lieutenant Flynn who offered to take me here yesterday when I was too shaken to drive. He picked me up this morning and drove me back to the hotel so I could get my car."

Her eyes were warning Stevens not to proceed, but he did anyway, which hardly surprised her. She dug her nails deeply into her arm and forced herself to adopt a neutral expression, bracing herself for the inevitable.

"Do you know what this looks like to me, Captain Raydor?" He got up and rounded the desk to perch on it in order to be as close to her as possible while he was delivering the final blow. They both knew what was on the line for her, having just become head of Major Crimes and they also both knew that she had a secret relationship with her Lieutenant Flynn. She could tell that Stevens was going to take his time, to savor every moment of the glory that was unraveling Sharon Raydor. She knew he wanted to strip away her dignity, her superiority and her calm. From the look on his face, the pleasure was almost sexual. What on earth had she done to him to deserve this kind of treatment?

Sharon felt exhausted. She hadn't exaggerated when she had told Andy that she hadn't slept a wink the previous night. Her limbs felt heavy and her eyes dry. There was a ringing in her ears that started out faintly and threatened to grow louder to turn into a stinging hum. She felt as if the floor beneath her was tilting and she reached out for the desk in front of her to steady herself and therefore prevent herself from sliding off the chair. Her head lowered, she spoke from between clenched teeth.

"Why don't you just say what you have to say, Commander Stevens, and get it over with?"

Stevens reached out for her abandoned glass and held it out to her, fully aware of the fact that she was unable to properly hold it in her state. "Would you like more water? You look as if you were going to be sick all over my shoes, Captain."

There was a knock at the door and Sharon immediately straightened up, her stomach churning in the process. Despite the indignity of throwing up in front of someone else, she kind of liked the idea of vomiting all over that obnoxious man's shoes just to see his face twist in disgust. The door opened and one of Stevens' squad members, a young blond man with a light blue tie that matched his bright eyes stuck his head in.

"Commander, there is something you might want to see." He looked from his superior officer to Sharon and gave her a reassuring smile that almost made her knees buckle with relief at the unexpected yet very welcome display of kindness. "And you too, Captain."


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

**A/N:** Hello! Sorry for the lack of updates! May I add that I am totally sleep-deprived which the ridiculous typos I just corrected bear witness to? ;-) I hope everyone has a great new year's eve celebration and a happy new year!

„It's okay, Andy," Sharon said in an attempt at placidity, yet fully aware of the lingering nervousness in her tone that she could just not manage to get rid of. She shook her head at Andy's offer to come over despite the fact that he could not see her through the phone. "It's okay," she repeated. "Everything is okay. We'll meet at my place in two hours and you can ask me anything you want to, okay?" His answer was hesitant yet affirmative and she was glad when she could finally hang up. Rusty liked to tease her about how she usually liked to drag out any phone conversation she was having with Andy but today she could hardly prevent herself from cutting him off. She slid the phone back into her pocket and took a deep breath of the hospital air. The smell of antiseptics was most prominent near the ER and she was grateful for the plastic cup of water the nurse had supplied her with earlier. She'd always known that they would somehow manage to make a mess of everything. She just hadn't expected it to happen so quickly and – most importantly – like this. She gave a dry chuckle although she did not feel humored at all. It was absurd.

She settled into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and crossed her legs, uneasy in the presence of the assortment of people who were waiting, like her, for blood results, the doctor or treatment. Sharon knew that her good insurance had put her first in line and she felt a bit guilty at the thought that the pale-faced woman right across from her had already been here when she had stumbled in herself a half hour ago. From the looks of her, she was far worse off than Sharon and there was no medical reason to treat Sharon first. She tried to catch the woman's gaze to give her a reassuring smile, but she was just staring ahead, the emptiness in her eyes disconcerting. Sharon briefly wondered what made her care about the other woman. She was younger than her but certainly too old to awaken Sharon's maternal instincts but there was something in her face, in her eyes, that gave Sharon pause. Or maybe she just wanted to escape her very own thoughts, she thought dryly. Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, she decided that she would deal with whatever it was she was exactly dealing with when the blood work was back to confirm the doctor's guess. Until then, she would stare at the woman across from her and try to make sense of her predicament.

Her hair was a dirty blond, looking rather washed-out. Sharon, no stranger to hair coloring, thought she spotted faded highlights in what seemed naturally dishwater blond. Her hair looked slightly shaggy, framing her thin face in weak strands that reached down to her frail shoulders. Her face was pale and blotted by minor blemishes, giving her the air of a teenager although she had to be at least thirty. Dressed in old jeans, dirty trainers and an oversized t-shirt, the woman looked not only ill but unkempt at the same time. Spotting angry red spots on the crooks of her arms, Sharon suddenly found that she was sitting opposite a drug addict. She now understood where the forlorn expression, paired with restless legs and the trembling of a malnourished body came from. And with a pang, she was hit by the realization that her interest in the woman was quite justified. The eyes. She had looked more vivacious in Rusty's picture. Younger and a little healthier, also. But the eyes hadn't changed. When she concentrated on them, she could see Rusty in them although where emotion was always just below the surface in her young ward's eyes, his mother's seemed dead. Her whole posture seemed defeated, arms crossed awkwardly over thin thighs, shoulders hunched. Sharon, who hadn't felt particularly lively when she'd come in, was very much aware of the differences between them. She suddenly felt nervous in her black tailored Armani suit, Manolo Blahnik patent leather pumps and white silk top, as if she was showing off with her carefully applied make-up despite the fact that she had only plastered on so much in order to look alive this morning.

The ER was where everyone met, she thought bitterly. Illness didn't distinguish between the washed-up drug addict who had abandoned her child and the fashionista police officer. The hospital personnel, however, very well did. She was suddenly thankful for the fact that Sharon Beck did not pay any attention to her surroundings, because she felt a very familiar rage bubble up inside her. She had always managed to put it aside. Easily, at first, when Rusty had still been a foster kid she had taken in for lack of a better alternative and maybe because she had taken pity on him. Later it had become more difficult, when the kid had become Rusty, who felt to her like her own. Looking for Sharon Beck had become a nuisance, as she did not know whether she'd be able to restrain herself when she was finally faced with the woman who had not been able to live up at all to the responsibilities that came with motherhood. Next to her justified rage at the younger woman's abandonment of her son, Sharon knew herself well enough to know that she was also scared of her. It wasn't that much that she feared she would regain custody of Rusty. With her track record and obvious drug problem, even the prognosis for visitation rights was doubtful, let alone custody. It was Rusty's emotional attachment to her. Sharon had always made it clear that she was not trying to replace Sharon Beck. But to herself, she had to admit that in some way she was. Lately she had begun to be scared that the paradoxically both strong and fragile bond between her and Rusty would suffer if he saw his mother again.

And here she was. After searching for so long, here she was sitting right opposite Sharon who was even at first glance completely unfit for motherhood, but she knew in her heart that she would always feel guilty towards Rusty if she didn't try. But if things were so clear, why couldn't she work up the courage to get up and walk over towards her to reveal her identity? Why couldn't she tell her that her son was fine, thriving really? The answer was simple: She was afraid that Rusty would be taken from her, if only on an emotional level. Feeling lost and selfish, Sharon remained rooted to her seat, the humming sound of the water cooler like thunder in her ears. She took another sip from her cup, willing the dryness of her throat to go away, but she knew that opposed to this morning's, none of her symptoms were actually physical.

"Sharon Raydor?"

Both women had raised their heads at the calling out of the first name and when Sharon rose from her chair, she could see recognition dawning in the other woman's eyes. They had never previously met, but they had spoken on the phone when she had first set up a meeting between her and Rusty so the name had to ring a bell. The mere thought of the day Sharon Beck had stood Rusty up at the bus stop made Sharon feel livid.

The nurse smiled at her. "The doctor's ready to discuss your blood results with you now." She lightly touched Sharon's elbow when she became aware of her devastated expression. "Don't worry. It's not bad news."

"Sharon Raydor?" Sharon Beck was now on her feet, hands shaking and eyes darting around. The nurse furrowed her brow and stepped slightly in front of her patient but Sharon knew she didn't need protection.

"Is it really necessary to discuss the results?" she asked the nurse matter-of-factly. "I have already spoken about the possible implications of it with the doctor and if it is what he thought it is, I should probably talk directly to my usual doctor."

The nurse gave her a look of surprise and then shrugged. "Well, it is and as we are fairly busy here today and as it is not your first time, I think you know what to expect."

Sharon cringed. "Absolutely."

"Well, ma'am. Then con-"

Sharon cut her off and nodded, eager to get rid of her before she gave Sharon Beck anything to overhear. Her stomach was churning when she turned back towards the other Sharon but she knew that she had to tread carefully now. She owed this to Rusty and she knew she had to push back everything else for the moment.

"Why don't we have a word, Miss Beck?"

* * *

Sharon followed Stevens into the squad room where they were greeted by solemn faces, few of which she recognized. She was now glad that she had asked Andy to leave immediately after their arrival. Under these circumstances, his presence would not have been comforting at all. Somehow, however, she missed the support of her team being there. She knew she had been standoffish the previous day and she regretted it, but she could not help herself. When faced with emotional pain, Sharon tended to retreat into herself. She also knew that she was alienating Andy by keeping him at arm's length but at the same time she hoped that he knew her well enough to understand where she was coming from.

A young woman in a maroon pantsuit walked towards Stevens. Between them, Sharon could see none of the animosities he was displaying towards her and the friendly nod he gave her almost made her wince. Seeing Stevens with his squad made it clear to her that he was not a monster but a respected superior officer who got along with his team. It was her he hated and she still wasn't sure why. The young officer extended her hand, a sympathetic smile on her face.

"Captain Raydor, I am Detective Nola Black." She turned towards Stevens again. "We found a witness who remembers Rusty talking to someone before he left."

Sharon was glad that she was standing next to an empty office chair that she could now subtly hold on to for support. Had she been in her own squad room, she would have sharply inquired after details, but she felt light-headed with sleep-deprivation and concern so she was almost glad that she was doomed to be a mere observer.

"Apparently he followed a woman back towards the hotel. Witness says she was rather short and thin with blond hair."

Sharon's breath caught and she was embarrassed when everyone turned towards her, their stares mostly equally surprised and sympathetic but annoyed on Stevens' part. She was vaguely aware of the hand that was covering her mouth but too shocked to drop it.

"Sharon," she said faintly. "Sharon Beck. She is Rusty's mother and was in pretty bad shape when I first found her. I got her a place in a treatment center so she could get off drugs before she saw Rusty again."

Stevens dropped his hands and squinted at the ceiling, obviously annoyed. "Thank you for finally sharing that little piece of information with us, Captain Raydor!" he growled sarcastically, much to the dismay of the young blond officer who had walked into their conversation minutes earlier.

"If you hadn't been so busy grilling me for information on my personal relationships, we might have gotten to that point," Sharon snapped, fully aware of the squad's surprised reaction. For a moment Stevens looked liked an animal about to strike, then he turned away from her and indicated Detective Black and the blond man.

"Black, Marx, go to that treatment center and find out about Sharon Beck's whereabouts. The rest, get back to your tasks." His harshness seemed to surprise his team even further and despite the fact that she was glad to be rid of him, Sharon felt stung by being left alone in the squad room without even as much as a word of goodbye. The stunned silence that had enveloped the room dissolved into the busy sounds of typing and Marx approached her, lightly touching her shoulder.

"Captain Raydor, would you like to accompany us? I am sure you can be of some help when it comes to Sharon Beck's background."

Sharon cleared her throat, willing herself to look as if she was not about to fall apart. This was a solid lead and if Rusty was with his mother, he was not in danger. At least not the conventional sort. She knew she was supposed to feel a little bit of relief, but at the same time her instincts were screaming at her that something was wrong.

"Thank you, Detective."

Black held the door and gave Sharon an encouraging smile on their way out. "We can stop to pick up coffee somewhere. With all due respect, Ma'am, you look like you need some."

Sharon gave a grateful smirk. "I'm buying."

* * *

Despite the dark cloud that seemed to hang over the squad room, Provenza and Sanchez suggestively wriggled their eyebrows at each other when an attractive young woman walked into the room with long, purposeful strides. She wore tight navy slacks and a sleeveless white blouse adorned with black dots, a suede handbag slung over her shoulder. Before Andy had a chance to intercept her, she had already approached the nearest desk and looked down at Provenza.

"Hi," she said. "Where do I find Sharon Raydor?"

Provenza grinned up at the auburn-haired young woman, clearly happy with what he was seeing. After the team had been more or less shunned by Sharon the previous day, he seemed to be in a mutinous mood towards her though Andy suspected that he was actually trying to mask how worried he was for Rusty.

"What? Are you one of those virgins whose blood she drinks in order to look that young?"

Flynn quickened his pace. This was going from zero to disaster fast. Provenza seemed to make the connection when the young woman gave him a hard stare through narrowed eyes and he paled visibly. Footsteps approached and a young, dark-haired man, barely out of his teens barged in, obviously in a hurry, can of coke in hand.

"Sorry, Laurie, the vending machine was-" He trailed off when he realized that he had walked into a somewhat awkward situation. Nodding at Flynn without meeting his eyes, he took his place next to his sister.

"You must be Lieutenant Provenza," Laura Raydor said coldly. "Now, where is my mother?"

"Out and about," Provenza grumbled and spun around on his chair to mask his embarrassment. He was about to receive and earful by Laura when Flynn approached her and gestured towards Sharon's office where they huddled around her desk while Flynn drew the blinds to give them some privacy.

"That's so my mom," Laura remarked with just a hint of amusement, indicating her surroundings. "Whereever she goes, it ends up looking like a picture from Architectural Digest."

Andy nodded in approval, thankful for the young woman's easy grace. James Raydor's dark brown eyes darted around the room as well, taking in everything but his mother's boyfriend. Andy knew he had a hard time accepting Sharon's new relationship and he was trying to stay out of his way in order to not upset him. Yet here they were. He assumed that James looked more like his father, as he was broad-shouldered with very dark brown eyes and and handsome features. Give him a couple of years to grow out of his adolescent awkwardness and that boy would be a smash hit with the ladies, Andy was sure.

"Your mother is with the Missing Persons division. We found a ransom note this morning and they're questioning her again." He couldn't suppress a pained grimace. "I haven't heard from her since she all but kicked me out."

Laura pursed her lips sympathetically while James seemed to loosen up a little at the thought.

"She's shutting you out, isn't she?" Laura asked matter-of-factly. "Don't worry. It's just what she does. She'll come around. How is she?"

Andy motioned towards the two chairs in the room and perched on the edge of Sharon's desk himself. "She's holding up, I think. Barely, though."

Laura nodded, unsurprised. "I see. Remember when you forgot to call when you missed your flight last year? She almost went berserk." She was addressing her younger brother now, who nodded solemnly. Despite the fact that he allowed her to lead the conversation, he was very much a presence in the room, following what was happening with eager eyes and ears.

"How's she, physically?"

Andy could see that James was tensing at his sister's question. He hadn't taken the news very well.

"She's okay. A little too much coffee and she refuses to eat and can't sleep, but-"

"That's 'okay' to you?" James interrupted him sharply. "Go figure."

"Jamie!" Laura warned. Somehow she seemed much older than her 22 years while her brother seemed to be her junior by more than just two years. Like her mother, she knew when to take charge. She turned back to Flynn. "When our grandpa died, she almost passed out at the hospital. Ignoring her physical needs makes her feel somewhat in control, I think, but you can't let her do that now." Laura showed signs of her own emotional turmoil for the first time when she ran her hand over her face in a gesture that eerily mirrored her mother's. It was amazing how similar those two were in both looks and mannerisms.

"Are there any news on Rusty at all?" James asked, his voice now soft and his shoulders sagged when he received a shake of the head. They heard footsteps approach and the door opened to reveal Sharon who was quite obviously surprised to see them. Flynn watched as her children hugged her firmly in turn while she pressed kisses to their foreheads for which her tall son had to bend down a little.

"Mom, you should probably sit down," Laura ordered and Sharon complied. She had barely looked at Flynn since she had entered the room and he felt a little stung despite the fact that he suspected she was just trying to make the situation easier on James. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, feeling like an intruder on a family he ought to be part of by now.

"Anything on Rusty?" James asked again, consciously or unconsciously blocking Flynn's view of Sharon.

"Someone saw him leave the patio with a woman who fits the description of his mother," Sharon said softly. "I went along with two detectives to the place where she is supposed to receive treatment for her drug addiction but apparently she left two days ago without completing her treatment. Andy, could you get me a glass of water, please?"

Sharon was pale and reaching for her waste basket under the desk, pulling it near so she would have something to vomit into, Andy suspected. He didn't like to leave her but walked out to retrieve a bottle of water from the break room. He was more worried for her than he liked to let on around her children. Even before the whole situation with Rusty, things had been tense. She didn't like keeping secrets from him but this time she had consciously chosen to. Talking his mother into getting help and paying for her stay at the facility was one thing, getting his hopes up about her sobering up and being there for him in some capacity was another, so she hadn't told him about it. Andy admired the calm resolve Sharon had gone about all the recent developments in their lives with, but he could also see the small cracks in her façade. Visiting a woman she didn't particularly like on a weekly basis hadn't been easy and neither had hiding the fact from Rusty that she was pregnant.

The news had come as a huge shock for both of them. Accidentally falling pregnant at 49 was not exactly common but by no means unheard of. Andy could tell that Sharon was more than a little embarrassed by the fact that it had happened to her and in the beginning neither of them had been sure whether they wanted to go through with it. Neither an extremely high risk pregnancy nor the prospect of having a child together at their age had seemed particularly appealing. Especially as there was the small problem of their being on the same squad with her in charge. He had told her that he would fully support her decision if she decided to have an abortion and despite the fact that he hadn't meant it to come across that way, his statement had sent her into a fit of full-blown rage at his perceived lack of commitment. He had profusely apologized several times and although she seemed to understand his rationale, they hadn't been on the best of terms for a few days. They had put off the inevitable decision until she had an appointment with her doctor so it could be determined whether the baby was healthy. At her age, after all, there were a million possibilities. The examination, however, had revealed everything to be perfectly normal which, truthfully, hadn't helped at all. Tired after hours and hours of whispered conversations and arguments the previous night, Andy had closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose when suddenly he had heard a noise that sounded strangely like a gallopping horse. One look into Sharon's moist eyes had confirmed that she shared his own sentiments at the time: Absolutely everything in their circumstances prohibited going through with the pregnancy but the mere sound of their child's heartbeat made all reasoning seem invalid.

That had been two weeks ago and just last week, Sharon had broken the news to Laura and James who had been accepting and scandalized respectively. Leaving Rusty in the dark had seemed practical for the moment, as he was most directly affected and Sharon didn't want him to have to worry about it during his finals. He could tell that she was feeling guilty, though.

He returned to Sharon's office with her water and earned a grateful smile when he handed it to her. She looked a little better than she had just minutes ago but he didn't like the haunted look in her eyes. Hiding both her relationship and her pregnancy from her squad was tiring for both of them and they knew that they had to come out with it at some point that they both hoped would yet be a few weeks in the future. Now that Rusty was gone, the game had changed and they both knew that Stevens would find out sooner or later. Before they had decided on a course of action, however, he knew that Sharon would not say a thing to the Commander. She unscrewed the bottle and took a tentative sip.

"Mom, we should get something to eat. You look horrible," Laura said firmly.

"I don't think I-" Sharon began but was collectively cut off by stares so she held up her hand. "Okay. Okay. But something light, please. Nothing even remotely greasy or I'll need the waste basket after all."

James screwed up his face and Laura nodded with brisk efficiency. "We'll go and get something." She ushered her brother out and left Sharon and Andy alone. As soon as the door had closed she stood and stepped into Andy's offered embrace. Her body felt good against his and he was glad that she wasn't avoiding him after all.

"Are you feeling up to this?" he whispered into her hair. "You should probably go home and catch up on some sleep."

She stepped away from him and returned to her desk. "I can't," she said quietly. "I've let Rusty down on so many counts, lately. I can't just go home and rest while he is somewhere out there." She rearranged a stack of files in order to busy her hands.

"You haven't let him down, Sharon. You're barely twelve weeks along in your pregnancy so there's plenty of time to tell him. And as for Sharon Beck, you were right to not get his hopes up for something that might never happen."

Sharon buried her face in her hands and spoke through her fingers. "She was so adamant about seeing him, Andy, and I kept denying her that. I should have expected her to show up at some point. Rusty has to feel so betrayed! I promised him to be upfront with him at all times and then his mother is in town and I hide her away from him."

"You did what you thought was best," Andy said soothingly, placing his hand on her back. "There's absolutely nothing wrong about that."

She lowered her hands and smiled up at him weakly. "When I came in here, Provenza looked at me as if I had stolen his favorite toy. Am I correct in my assessment that they don't particularly like me today due to my standoffish behavior last night?"

Andy shrugged, hands now in his pockets. "They'll come around. Deep down even he knows what you're going through."

She gave a halfhearted smirk. "He doesn't know the half of it. My morning sickness is killing me today. Why did I decide to do this again?"

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "You didn't, really. It was a matter of extremely favorable odds, Mommy."

"Favorable," she snorted but with a twinkle in her eyes. He could tell that Rusty being with his mother calmed her somewhat although she seemed personally insulted by the ransom note. "Can you make sure Laura and James get some food for the rest of the squad, too? Just so they remember I am not a Wicked Witch?" She reached for her wallet but he held up a hand. "I got it, Sharon. Just drink your water and get a minute's rest, will you?"

Sharon did as she was told and closed her eyes. Several units had been dispatched to search for Rusty and Sharon, Ronnie, as her friends called her. Although she was by no means her friend, Sharon had taken up referring to her by that name as it felt odd to use the first name they shared. What were the odds, she thought, that you had a biological and a foster mother that went by the same first name? But then again, what were the odds of falling in love with a co-worker after years of service by the rulebook? And what were the odds of having his baby when one should look forward to being a grandmother next? Coincidence, it seemed, liked her. She opened her eyes and took another sip of water. Although she was still worried, she was now halfway convinced that Rusty was angry with her for keeping his mother from him which accounted for his lack of contacting her. The ransom note, however, didn't seem to fit into the scheme of things. Sharon was too tired to find an explanation for it, but her senses were still tingling with alarm. Something didn't quite add up. And yet she was sleepy, her limbs suddenly heavy with exhaustion. She sat the bottle down and closed her eyes, leaning back into her chair, stretching her legs. A few minutes wouldn't hurt, she decided. She really needed it, after all.

A sharp knock at the door almost made her fall out of her chair. She quickly adjusted her glasses and straightened up. "Yes?" Provenza stuck his head around the door, a worried look in his eyes.

"There's a body, Captain."

She had almost forgotten that she had her own job to do and her body felt heavy when she lifted it out of her chair. "Who called it in?" she asked in the businesslike voice she had been failing to produce all morning. The look in Provenza's eyes made her stop in her tracks even before he could say anything.

"Missing Persons," he said quietly. "They want you to do an identification."


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

Once again, Sharon was plagued by insomnia. Laura next to her in bed was already fast asleep, her breathing shallow and even. There had been no need to talk about the fact that neither of her children would sleep in Rusty's room while they were staying with her. It just didn't feel right, so Laura was sleeping in Sharon's bed with her while James had taken the couch and a very reluctant Andy had driven to his own place with the promise to return early in the morning. She sat up and reached for her robe. Despite the fact that she had managed to eat a sandwich for dinner, she felt cold and weak and overcome by the memories of the day's events. Maybe a cup of tea would help, she thought, quietly creeping towards the door in order not to wake her daughter.

Sharon hadn't wanted her children at the morgue and she knew that she couldn't take Andy with her as it would most likely provoke Stevens. If anyone had told her a year ago that she would chose Lieutenant Provenza of all people to accompany her, she would have laughed in their face and yet here they were. Flynn's white-haired best friend had his hand on the small of Sharon's back during their entire walk down the corridor towards the autopsy suite and she was grateful for the reassuring touch and his calming presence beside her. Their steps echoed ominously from the sickly green walls and Sharon's knees felt like jelly. If it was Rusty in there, she would simply collapse, she thought, and she wondered fleetingly whether she would have the strength to ever get up again. Stevens' lack of disclosure when it came to the victim's identity angered her but she could tell that Provenza was even more bothered by it. She fully expected him to have a few choice words for Stevens when they arrived but for once she was not planning on keeping her lieutenant in check. The unique smell of the morgue wafted into her nose and the lingering nausea that had been bothering her all morning flared back up. For a moment she thought she would have to excuse herself to run to the bathroom but then it passed, leaving her with mere queasiness and a feeling of sheer exhaustion.

"Captain Raydor!" Marx met them in front of one of the suits, a grim expression on his face. Before Sharon could say anything, Provenza shot forward like a viper ready to strike.

"Who is it, for god's sake? Don't you people have any dignity? The Captain's worried out of her mind that it's her foster son in there and you can't be bothered with telling her whether it's him over the phone?"

The color drained from Marx's face. "Excuse me? Oh god, I didn't know. Captain, please, it is not Rusty!"

Without planning to, Sharon gave a high-pitched hum of relief and felt Provenza's firm grip around her arm a moment later. She pressed one of her hands onto her thundering heart and too a deep breath.

"Is it Miss Beck?" she asked, her voice trembling with the emotion she was trying to hide. Marx nodded solemnly. "We think so. She certainly fits the description you gave us. One bullet to the head. Must have killed her instantly, the doc says."

Minutes later Sharon was wearing standard issue blue scrubs, the aggressive smell of disinfectants and death in her nostrils, looking down at Sharon Beck's dead body. Her earlier relief had died down and given way to a deep, fundamental dread. She hadn't liked Sharon Beck much but she was, after all, Rusty's mother. Sharon imagined the raging pain Rusty would feel when she broke the news to him and she felt as if there was a rock crushing her heart. The boy had endured so much already and now he would have to cope with another loss. If he was found alive, she reminded herself painfully. The comforting illusion that he was furious with Sharon and stubbornly staying with his real mother had dissolved. If Ronnie's death was connected to Rusty's disappearance, the abductor was armed and ruthless. Headshots like this one didn't happen accidentally. The woman in front of her had been executed. Sharon took in the greyish white skin, the dull hair and the overall frailty of the the naked body that was only covered with a thin sheet.

"It's her," she confirmed and nodded at Dr Morales who was standing next to a solemn-faced Marx. She was glad that Stevens wasn't present as she wasn't sure she had the stomach for his open hostility right now.

"She was found in a supermarket parking lot. We're still searching the surrounding area for Rusty. If he's there, we'll find him," Marx said.

Sharon's mind returned to the present when she heard the muffled noises of the TV filtering through the closed bedroom door. She stepped out into the hallway and found her son sitting up on the couch, idly flipping through the channels.

"Nothing on?" she asked, startling him. He looked up at her with tired eyes then shrugged.

"Can't sleep," he murmured which made her want to walk over and ruffle his hair. Instead she offered him a cup of tea, heavily sweetened which was just the way he liked it. She added some sugar to her own beverage to help with the nausea that still persisted and walked towards the door to get back in bed. James had been distant since she had told him about her pregnancy a week ago and she didn't want to impose her presence on him. Like her, he tended to withdraw himself when he had difficulties coping with a situation or development and she respected that, knowing that he would come around at some point. To her surprise, he called her back.

"If you can't sleep either, you might as well sit with me."

Sharon gave a little smile and set her teacup down on the coffee table. James sat up to make room for her on the couch and muted the television. For a moment they sat in silence, sipping their tea, then James spoke.

"I am really worried for Rusty and all but I can't stop thinking about-" He gestured towards Sharon's stomach. "-that. I am being selfish."

She set her cup down and placed her hand on her son's arm. "No, you're not. You've had a lot to take in lately. It's only natural to grasp at certain things."

He looked a little lost at her words and shook his head. "Everything happened so quickly. You've never really had a serious boyfriend and now suddenly Andy shows up and gets you pregnant right away."

She chuckled besides herself. "I am sure it wasn't his intention," she explained. "and I do see your point. This is happening too fast for my liking, too."

He sipped his own tea and stared at the flickering television for a moment. "Don't take this the wrong way, Mom, but did you consider- well, not having the baby?"

She could see in his eyes that he would have preferred her to get rid of it but she didn't feel angry with him at all. James had always been the youngest child and Rusty's appearance in their lives had left him sullen and unhappy at first. A foster child almost his own age who shared his interest in science fiction, however, was an entirely different matter than a newborn half-sibling.

"I did," she confided in him. "I very seriously considered it, in fact." She resisted the urge to put one hand over her abdomen and pulled her robe more tightly around herself instead. "But then I thought of you and Laura and of how much I love you and I just couldn't. Andy and I have yet to work out the details of it all but we both want the baby. It's a miracle, really, at my age." She smiled tentatively, worried that her son would somehow feel left out. He surprised her with his next question.

"Is he taking good care of you, Andy?"

Sharon snorted into her tea and coughed, unable to stop smiling despite the general bleakness of her situation and the fact that their conversation felt layered with tension.

"Oh, he is," she said. "He's very sweet. Worried about me all the time. He even banned cream from the break room at work because just looking at it makes me sick."

James nodded without looking at her. "He makes you happy, doesn't he?"

"Very."

"Dad never did, did he?"

Sharon's heart broke at her son's devastated expression. He probably thought she wanted to start a new, better family that did not include him. She reached out and wrapped her hand around his. "Your father did contribute to my happiness, Jamie. He gave me you and Laura and I wouldn't miss you two for the world." She shrugged awkwardly, extending both of her arms for him. "May I hug you?" James leaned in and took her in his arms, holding her for a moment.

"It's not easy," she whispered into his shoulder. "Our jobs, our living situation, our age." She smirked at him when they let go of each other. "The fact that I will end up looking like a stranded wale once again…"

He tilted his head. "You will be showing soon."

"Already am," she said, slightly rubbing the barely perceivable curve of her stomach. "Or maybe it's just that I had to cut down on the running. My doctor wants me to take it easy."

She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. "I feel a little bit better now that we talked," she confessed. "I love you very much and I hate it when you're angry with me."

"I'm not angry with you, Mom. I'm glad you're happy. It's just not easy to wrap my mind around this."

She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I understand." She felt his arm come up around her and hummed luxuriously as she felt herself drift off to sleep.

* * *

When Andy walked into the room at six in the morning, he found James asleep but sitting up on the couch, Sharon curled into his side, one arm holding on to his torso. He was glad she got a little sleep as the day ahead of them would most probably be long and strenuous. Sharon had fought Missing Persons tooth and nails for jurisdiction over Sharon Beck's murder and had finally succeeded which also allowed her involvement in their investigation. Needless to say, Stevens wasn't amused in the slightest.

He made a pot of coffee and carried two mugs over to the sofa where Sharon and her son were stirring. Andy braced himself for another cool greeting and was surprised to get a weak smile and a "Good Morning, Andy" from James while his mother clambered to her feet and kissed Andy. She looked a little more rested than she had the night before and he was relieved to see her a little less depressed. After the scene James had made just a week ago, he hadn't expected to find them in such a harmonious setting.

"Any news?" Sharon asked, patting the pockets of her bathrobe for her phone.

"Nothing. I called Marx. They've been searching all night but there's no sign of Rusty or his kidnapper. I checked your car and the letter box on my way up. No more notes regarding ransom."

She nodded in acknowledgment. "Then we have to get the investigation underway. I'll go and get ready for the day. Please call Provenza and tell him to meet Sanchez at the morgue to oversee Ronnie's autopsy. I'll take Tao to the clinic so we can re-interview their staff regarding the events leading up to Ronnie's disappearance. You get some more sleep, honey." She pressed a kiss into her son's hair and got up. "It must have been uncomfortable to have your old mother squashing your shoulder all night. Sorry."

Andy cleared his throat uncomfortably which caused Sharon to pause and turn around on her way to the door. Being able to do something seemed to give her a much-needed burst of energy. He walked towards her, hands in his pockets, uneasy with her son's presence during what might turn out to become an argument.

"I'd rather it'd be me who accompanies you," he said in a low voice.

She shook her head. "I don't want to give Stevens any ammunition and beside that I am still a fully functional human being." She laid her hand gently against her stomach to emphasize what she meant, causing Andy to roll his eyes. He was not about to give up.

"Stevens won't be there and besides, we work together so I can accompany you to an interview. There's nothing to it," he objected. "And this is not a normal situation."

Sharon opened her mouth to retaliate when James chimed in unexpectedly. He had been watching the exchange with interest from his spot on the couch and seemed now ready to interject. "You should probably take him along, Mom. I'd feel better knowing that you have him with you."

Andy turned towards the young man in surprise as he had spent the better part of the awkward dinner they had shared last week antagonizing him. He would have never expected him to take his side in anything, much less something that concerned his mother. Sharon raised a hand to accompany her words.

"Alright. Tell Tao to liaison with Missing Persons then." Shooting them a watchful look, she went off.

* * *

Sharon had chosen the rehabilitation facility for its excellent reputation and high success rate, not for its architectural beauty. Every time she entered the parking lot, however, she shuddered at the unadorned building from the sixties with its gray concrete walls and somewhat futile attempts at cheerfulness that consisted of bright orange walls and pot plants adorning every available surface. Other than that, the building had the air of a hospital with linoleum floors and functional furniture. When Sharon had first visited Ronnie here, she had just returned from her first doctor's appointment that had resulted in her and Andy throwing all caution to the wind and tearfully deciding that they would be parents again. Truthfully, she didn't feel up to a visit with Rusty's mother but visiting hours were restricted and finding time was difficult enough while hiding things from Rusty. So after the car ride home that she had largely spent giggling with relief and giddiness while Andy had amused her by picturing Provenza's reaction to their news, she had taken her own car to come here. Despite her nervousness, she felt calmer than she had ever since she'd met Ronnie. While she had been uncertain as to her future with Andy up until today, she had now made a decision and had consequently gotten rid of the feeling of uncertainty that had been plaguing her.

Ronnie Beck was waiting for her in a small recreation room complete with a television, a number of comfortable chairs and a bookshelf. The woman looked a little better than when Sharon had last seen her as a some color had returned to her previously ashen cheeks and her eyes looked clearer. Ronnie was wearing dark gray sweat pants and a simple black long-sleeve that emphasized the gauntness of her body. Sharon noticed the other woman's assessing look and was glad that she had chosen to wear casual clothes today.

"Hello, Miss Beck," she said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." She could tell from the look in the other woman's eyes that she did not trust her. Her monosyllabic answer bore witness to the fact that she was aware that she needed to be grateful to Sharon who had invested a large amount of money and pulled a number of strings to place her here. But it was probably not in her nature to understand that Sharon didn't have ulterior motives but that she was doing all of this for her foster son's benefit.

Sharon settled down in one of the chairs and crossed her legs, easily masking her own uneasiness while the other woman couldn't keep her hands from shaking when she took a seat across from her. She reached into her pocket and took out a lighter and a packet of cigarettes. It took her a moment to light the cigarette and she took a deep drag, like a suffocating person craving oxygen. Sharon was glad that she had refused Andy's offers to tag along. He would have probably gone overboard on protectiveness and would have forced Ronnie to stub out the cigarette which would have made an awkward situation even more awkward. She ignored the smoke curling towards the ceiling and waited for the other woman to settle down.

"How's Rusty?" Ronnie finally asked in a raspy voice.

Sharon tried a smile. "He is really good, actually. He joined the chess club at his new school and he is also trying out for the swim team."

Ronnie looked somewhat surprised at the revelation but didn't comment. Instead, she took another drag of her cigarette, her eyes wandering across the room restlessly.

"What kind of school is that?"

"A very good Catholic school. Both of my children went there."

Ronnie regarded Sharon with mild interest. For the first time she got the impression that the other woman saw her as something other than a source of information about Rusty.

"You have other kids?"

"Yes, but they're in college on the East Coast though they both have summer jobs in Santa Monica this year so I'll be seeing a little more of them over the summer." Sharon caught herself smiling at the idea. It would be nice to have her family around a little more often even if it was only for the summer. That would give them the opportunity to get to know Rusty better and get acquainted with Flynn.

Ronnie obviously wasn't one for polite remarks so she didn't comment on the personal information Sharon had given her. Instead she took her eyes off her again and stared out of the window into the bleak gray sky while she resumed her smoking.

"I want to see Rusty," she said, sounding like a moody child that was demanding something its parents had promised to hand over. Sharon leaned back in her chair, both of her arms on the armrests.

"We had a deal, Miss Beck. Get off the drugs and I'll arrange a meeting."

Ronnie angrily crushed her cigarette in the ashtray in front of her, tension suddenly ruling her bearings. "You can't keep my son from me!"

Sharon had a hard time remaining calm and collected. After all, the woman sitting across from her had stood by without doing anything while her boyfriend had regularly beaten Rusty up. She had left her son behind in a zoo, presumably because said boyfriend had told her to. She had stood the kid up when he had wanted to see her just a few months ago. She was really in no position to make demands.

"I can and I will," she explained with underlying danger in her voice. "Rusty has been through so much. I am not going to get his hopes up so he can be disappointed again."

"What do you want? I'm here, I ditched my boyfriend, I am doing my best! Why do you want him all to yourself? You have your own kids!"

Sharon was quickly getting tired of Ronnie's juvenile behavior.

"Maybe we should continue this another time." She began to rise but in an unexpected move, Ronnie reached out for her and clasped her hand around Sharon's wrist.

"Please, no. I'm sorry. Don't go." Her voice sounded pleading now, small and unsure. Sharon was reminded of the fact that the woman opposite her had gotten pregnant at a very young age, that her family had thrown her out after learning of the pregnancy. For all the pain she had inflicted on her son, she'd had a hard life as well. She sat back down and folded her hands over her knee.

"I want only the best for Rusty, Miss Beck. You have a wonderful son. He is smart and witty and he has many talents, but he is also damaged. He has trust issues and he takes a long time to feel safe. I don't want to subject him to more uncertainty and pain. I don't want him to think that he isn't wanted by me anymore, so I have to tread carefully."

Tears were starting to form in Ronnie's eyes. "But he is my son, not yours! It's not your place to make decisions for him!"

Sharon gave her the sardonic little smile that had regularly sent Chief Johnson into fits. "Actually, it is. You lost your parental rights when you abandoned your son at a zoo and left him to his own devices, Miss Beck. Now, I get that your circumstances are difficult, but Rusty is currently my responsibility and I will protect him."

Ronnie leaned back in her chair as well and nervously folded her arms in front of her body to keep them from trembling. She was nervously eying her packet of cigarettes again and Sharon was fleetingly considering opening a window when the other woman took her eyes off the cigarettes and looked straight at her instead.

"I know that what I did was wrong. I was under my boyfriend's spell, okay? I was drugged out of my mind and I couldn't take the responsibility. I am better now and, truthfully, I don't trust you, Mrs Raydor."

Sharon raised her eyebrows and tilted her head slightly. "That is certainly interesting, Miss Beck. What leads you to the conclusion that I am not trustworthy? As far as I am concerned, you know very little about me."

Ronnie leaned forward, arms still folded and now resting atop her thighs. "I do know a few things. For instance, you have a lot of money that you like to use to control people." Her voice was laced with hostility now. "You strike me as someone who enjoys being powerful."

Despite the fact that Ronnie had jumped to the wrong conclusions, Sharon was surprised at her observation skills. Taken aback for a moment, she remained silent. A smirk appeared on Ronnie's face when she went on. "What I don't know is, does Rusty know about your baby?"

Sharon was shell-shocked and unable to hide it. "Excuse me?" she mumbled.

"I overheard the nurse at the ER telling her co-worker that she finds it astonishing that you managed to get yourself knocked-up at your age without any medical assistance."

Sharon was beginning to feel thoroughly uncomfortable having this conversation or rather, sitting through Ronnie's revelations. Her knowledge of personal information like that didn't make her life any easier, she was sure of that.

"I bet you didn't tell him and I can assure you of this much: He won't like it."

* * *

The sounds of seagulls. The clicking of a camera. Laughter. "Now, where are they headed?" Sanchez. Curious as to why Sharon and Andy were walking into the opposite direction. "Let's get you some coffee." Sanchez was leading Provenza away leaving Rusty by himself. He loosened his tie slightly as it felt a little uncomfortable in the heat. Sharon and Andy were probably off making out, Rusty thought. They could barely keep their hands to themselves for a few minutes nowadays, let alone for several hours. The air tasted salty. Rusty stole a sip of the abandoned champagne and savored it on his tongue.

"Rusty?"

The sound of the voice alone was like a dagger that was pushed between his ribs. He whirled around and found his mother there. For a moment he thought that his legs would give way and that he would tumble to the floor in an undignified heap. Pain washed over him in a wave that was threatening to drown him and inside of him, fear, happiness, grief and anger took over in equal parts.

"Mom?" The term sounded alien, "Sharon" having become synonymous with it at some point. For a moment, anger and disappointment won. She had chosen to just reappear in his life, had caught him completely off guard and he hated being unprepared. He had never been able to decide what he would say to her, or he was supposed to feel should he ever see her again and here she was before he had a chance to choose whether he actually wanted to.

"What are you doing here?" he asked roughly, immediately regretting his words when he saw the stung look in her eyes. She looked better than she had in years, healthier. Her face wasn't as gaunt as he remembered it, her hair looked as if it had been washed recently and she was wearing a half decent pair of jeans and a washed-out blouse.

"I wanted to see you."

Once he had allowed himself to feel it, his anger turned into raging fury. What was she thinking doing this to him? How could she calmly invade his life again just like this? And when would she just disappear again?

"How did you know I am here?"

His mother smiled. "Sharon told me about the wedding."

Rusty's breath caught. "Sharon? Sharon Raydor? My foster mother?"

His mother nodded and Rusty felt cold sweat trickle down his back. Sharon had known all along that his mother was close, had seen her and talked to her just recently and had not told him? Her betrayal felt like a punch to the stomach. If anything, he had believed to be able to trust Sharon Raydor.

"She would have told me," he said anyway, yet unable to let go of the comfort his trust in her provided. His mother stood closer, her hands clasped behind her back, balancing on the balls of her feet. There was something girlish, childish really, about her that he had never noticed before.

"Really? There's a number of things she didn't tell you."

"Like what?" Rusty felt his face twist into a devastated expression. If he didn't get his act together, he would start crying in a moment and he absolutely didn't want that to happen. His mother placed a hand on his shoulder - possessively, it seemed.

"She is going to have a baby, Rusty."

He blinked. "Sharon? She's almost fifty!" But at the same time, his mind began to process the information and compare it to observations he had made over the previous weeks. The very persistent stomach flu probably wasn't one. Flynn being fussy and coddling her at every opportunity probably didn't mean that he had simply lost his mind. Her cutting down on her running and sleeping in was probably an attempt to get more rest despite her demanding job instead of the laziness she had declared it as. And the afternoons she now spend on the couch… He interrupted his own train of thought. She had proposed adoption to him. That didn't sound as if she was trying to get rid of him. But then again, that had been a few weeks ago and she hadn't brought it up again since then and the one time he had, she had suddenly been in a hurry. And she had told Sharon Beck of all people. Didn't she trust him? Did she think that he would go and blab about it to her squad or her superior? Panic began to rise inside him. Or else, was he the only one left in the dark? Did everyone know and laugh about his ignorance behind his back?

"How about we go round the hotel and have a chat there?" His mother asked in a sweet voice. Rusty suddenly didn't know who he was angry at anymore but his rage was quickly building up inside him, seeking a way to bubble to the surface and erupt. He wanted to lash out at his mother and yell at her for abandoning him, for forcing him to live on the streets, for letting him down time and again. He wanted to go and find Sharon and confront her with his knowledge, to ask her what the hell she had been thinking, whether she wanted to get rid of him. He wanted to punch Flynn in the face for knocking her up and he wanted to hit himself over the head with a blunt object for setting the two of them up in the first place. Instead he grabbed his iphone that had been sitting on the table and hurled it at the ground in frustration where the screen broke with a satisfying crack. Then he followed Sharon Beck to the exit.

**A/N**: Woohooo, I want praise for updating so quickly. And slightly hung over that is! Happy new year!


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

**A/N: **_Sorry for the delay! The piece of music Sharon's talking about in this chapter is Allegro Moderato from Tchaikovsky's violin concerto. In other news, Detective Marx has come to look like Captain Apollo in my mind. How did that happen?! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and I would like to thank you for all of your support. I looooooove your reviews! ;-)_

"You're late." Andy raised an eyebrow at Sharon who stopped in her tracks, caught by surprise on her way from the front door to the living-room, keys still in hand. She reached out, cupped his cheek and aimed to press a kiss to his lips but ended up reaching only his chin in the hurry she was in.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed. "Something important came up. You look amazing. Just wait a minute." She half ran half stumbled into the direction of her bedroom and emerged only two minutes later, having changed from her black suit into a short black cocktail dress that was as simple as it was breathtaking. Applying a touch of dark red lipstick while she was running her hand through her long, curly hair, she murmured instructions for Rusty's dinner. The teenager stood in the doorway of his room and rolled his eyes.

"I'll be okay, Sharon. I know how the microwave works."

Sharon dropped the lipstick into her purse and pulled him in to kiss the air next to his cheek. "Be good. Don't stay up too late. Don't watch TV before you're finished doing your homework."

Rusty threw his hands up in mock surprise. "Oh my, all those new and exciting instructions that I have never heard before!"

Sharon chuckled and took Flynn's arm, squeezing it lightly. "Are you ready to go?"

"I've been ready to go for a while now," he said pointedly but still very obviously checked out her legs and cleavage. "Did I mention that you look pretty hot, Captain?"

A half hour later they took their seats in the auditorium, the usual last minute coughs already resonating through its vast space. A violin whined in a late rehearsal when Andy leaned into Sharon and caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. The car ride had been spent discussing her latest visit with Ronnie but that didn't account for the several hours she had been gone for. She seemed preoccupied, he noticed, as if there was something else she needed to talk about but felt unable to due to the fact that they had very nearly been late for the concert she had been looking forward to for weeks. The audience began to applaud when the conductor took his place and Sharon was about to withdraw her hand to join in when he caught it firmly in his.

"I know something's up," he whispered, quickly with urgency. "You look completely out of it. Is something wrong? With the baby, perhaps?"

Sharon's hands froze and she turned her head slightly towards him despite the fact that she was not properly looking at him. He could see in her facial expression that she was not only annoyed that he tried to extract information right now when her favorite concert was about to begin, but that there was something else.

He remembered her in bed, curled into his side after making love, stroking his chest and telling him about Tchaikovsky's only violin concert. Her eyes had been shining with excitement when she'd told him about the beautiful theme that persisted throughout the first part but never returned for the others. It was her favorite melody, she had confided in him, as it marked the end of the composer's heavy depression and the start of something new and beautiful in his life when he had finally been free of all his various restraints. Andy wasn't particularly interested in classical music himself but when he'd spotted an advertisement for the concert, he had remembered and surprised her with two tickets. So here they were and he dared interrupt her when she was about to submerge herself in her favorite piece of music? And Sharon was as dead-serious about music as she was about everything else. Instead of stalling him and brushing aside his request for more information, however, she squeezed his hand back, leaning slightly into him. He could feel her warm breath lingering on his cheek before she gently kissed his jawline and then, as the music began to swell with the theme she loved so much, she whispered into his ear, barely audible over the powerful strokes of the violin.

"I went to see Barbara about legal issues today." He tried to turn his head in a rapid movement to convey his surprise in a single look but she didn't let him, her fingertips gently holding on to his jaw. "I was going to save this for later, Andy, but if you insist." She squeezed his hand to mask the fact that her own was trembling but he noticed anyway.

"I'm filing for divorce."

The music drowned out Andy's shocked gasp and so he was left staring at the side of Sharon's face while her eyes were fixed on to the orchestra in front. He couldn't tell from the look of her how she was feeling about it but he could clearly see that she was not joking. Given the fact that she knew this piece of music so well, Andy was convinced that she had timed the moment she'd told him so the music would be too loud to hold a decent conversation right after. When the loud tones of the orchestra began to ebb away to make room for a gentle, lonely violin, he leaned into her again.

"A bit dramatic, are we?"

She turned her head, a smile tugging at her lips despite the obvious nervousness that her tense shoulders and moist hand conveyed. "Between Tchaikovsky and the Battlestar Galactica soundtrack that Rusty's been playing at full volume lately, I might have acquired a slight flair for the dramatic."

"Battlestar Galactica?" Flynn asked. "Isn't that that old show from the seventies?"

A man next to them gave them an angry look to shut them up and Andy suddenly felt confused by the whole situation. While Sharon was still legally married, he had never met her husband, she wasn't wearing a wedding band and the marriage solely existed on paper. Legal ties, Andy knew, were strong only in an emotionally detached sense. Then it hit him. If the baby was born before the divorce was final, it would legally be Sharon's husband's. He leaned in very closely to be heard by her without bothering the rest of the audience.

"Are you doing this because you want to or because of the baby?"

She pulled him in discreetly, her hand caressing the back of his neck. "I want to because of the baby. And because I love you."

Andy was stunned and also instantly transported back to the night when she had told him about this concert. She had said that listening to it always reminded her of what it felt like to be in love and here she was, telling him that she loved him for the very first time. She couldn't have chosen a more meaningful moment, he mused and covered her lips with his eagerly despite the fact that they were in the middle of the auditorium where everyone could see them. It was extremely inappropriate but he could tell from the way Sharon responded to him that she didn't care either. They came apart after a short time and he wrapped both of his hands around hers, enjoying their warmth for the rest of the concert, his heart skipping happily along to the music.

When they were walking back to their car later, he wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned down slightly.

"Is it improper to propose to someone who is still married to someone else?" he whispered into her ear. She chuckled and looked up at him.

"Absolutely, Andy, but so is having a baby with a married woman."

"Not to mention while we're both Oldie Olderson," Andy shot back, brushing her cheek with his lips.

"It just means that we have a lot of parenting experience already and that the child will have many nice nieces and nephews its age to play with," Sharon cringed and stopped in her tracks to turn towards him. "My doctor pointed out that 49 is not the advised age to have children," she told him to which he raised both of his eyebrows.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," he said sarcastically. "And did she mean that 49 is the advised age to have an abortion instead?"

Sharon smirked halfheartedly. "No, she launched into a long lecture on how I have to conduct myself during pregnancy."

"I hope that didn't involve not having sex," he pointed out, reaching for her hands. "I know it's not easy, Sharon, but you have got to stop feeling guilty. It happened, god knows how, so let's just count our blessings and move along with it."

She blinked up at him. "Midnight feedings, diaper-changes, children's birthday parties. Is that what you really want? Because if you don't," she looked down at her shoes, unable to face him. "Then I need to know. You- you were pretty quick to tell me that you would support me if I decided to have an abortion and I can't help wondering whether you just agreed to doing this eventually because you felt like you had to."

Andy knew now that he should have expected his statement to come back and haunt him and he felt guilty for ever having made it. "No. I made my decision based on my own feelings, Sharon. What about you? Do _you_ really want the baby? Or are you just doing what your catholic beliefs dictate?"

She looked devastated in the fluorescent lights of the parking garage thought beautiful in her dress and unbuttoned coat. There was the smell of gas in the air and the lights flickered idly. This was not the place to discuss the matters they were discussing, but he couldn't help himself. He needed to hear her genuine opinion on this right now.

"No, Andy. I am pro choice," she spat. "but this has nothing to do with it. I love children. Especially my own and I have come to realize that I could never, never get rid of one of them. I do see the obstacles I am facing, but I can't help thinking about all the good things that lie ahead." Her face relaxed and she couldn't suppress a smile. "I have spent some of my best mornings with a newborn in my arms watching the sun rise and birthday parties aren't too bad if you don't feed them to much candy and have earplugs handy. If you're properly prepared, it's quite adorable really."

Andy stepped closer to her and placed his hands on her hips with a smirk. "You're either completely swamped by pregnancy hormones or you really miss being a mother to a small child," he told her to which she giggled and pressed her cheek into his shirt.

"I think it's a bit of both," her muffled voice answered him, her arms suddenly wrapped tightly around him. He enjoyed her closeness for a moment before he answered.

"I don't have the benefit of the hormones but I am looking forward to it, too. I missed a lot when my children were little because of the drinking but this time I intend to fight you for the midnight feedings."

"Well, I can assure you that I will not put up too much resistance," she murmured, nestling her cheek into his chest.

"Honey, are you going to fall asleep on me right now?" he asked her, his hands on her back.

"Maybe." She did sound a little sleepy. "I tend to fall asleep when I feel like everything is right with the world."

He grinned into her hair and took a small step back. "Come on, sleepyhead. The car's just a few steps away." He took her hand and led her towards the car where he opened the passenger's door for her. She shot him a quizzical look when he didn't let go of her hand to allow her to climb inside. He hesitated for a moment, clearly nervous.

"I love you, too, Sharon. And I fully intend to propose to you the moment the divorce is through."

To his surprise, Sharon laughed out loud, a beautiful and promising sound. "You'd better," she said.

* * *

After interviewing Ronnie's therapist and social worker, Andy insisted they go over their findings over lunch while Sharon demanded that it had to be a quick one. They settled into a small café on their way back to the office and Sharon allowed herself the comfort of sitting next to Andy on the bench and snuggling slightly into his side while eating her salad. With his arm around her in public it felt almost as if they were a normal couple that didn't need to constantly hide their relationship. Andy picked up a french fry and bit it while she summarized what they had learned: Ronnie had been on the road to recovery and had therefore received certain privileges as the right to leave the facility on her own for certain amounts of time each day in order to go to the mall. Therefore the fact that she hadn't had any visitors didn't necessarily mean that she hadn't met anyone. Then, the day before her son's disappearance, she had left in the morning but had not returned. Apparently she had left most of her things behind, all of which Sharon had confiscated as evidence despite the fact that nothing of importance seemed to be among them. After their brief discussion, Sharon allowed herself a moment of quietude. She missed Rusty and she was terribly worried but she found that working helped to stay focused and keep the overwhelming fear at bay.

When she stole one of Flynn's french fries, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You are a good girl," he said in approval which made her smile.

"I'm glad you approve of my conduct, Lieutenant Flynn."

"No really, Sharon." He reached over and squeezed her hand. "You're holding up so well, it's amazing. I'm glad you're allowing me to take a little care of you." His other hand came to rest on her stomach and she sighed comfortably when he began to rub it in gentle circles. "I realized something yesterday."

"You did?" she asked, enjoying the feeling of his warm hand on her abdomen. Somehow the affectionate touch even helped with her constantly lingering nausea.

"We've been treating your pregnancy like an illness, so far. We've been hiding it and discussing all the disadvantages, all the matters we will have to organize and take care of but now that things are getting rough, I find myself not only worried about you but about the little one as well. I might have only just fully realized that there's a baby in there and that I am its father. And-" He leaned in to brush her lips with his. "I am thrilled, really."

Despite everything, Sharon felt a big smile spread across her face when she placed her hand on top of his. "Me, too. I'm showing already, Andy. Can you feel it?"

"I'd noticed," he told her. "but I didn't dare tell you. You've always been very… particular about your weight."

To his surprise, she broke out laughing. "I've done this twice before, Andy. There will literally be no room to be _particular_ about that sort of thing. And besides, I am sort of relieved. It means that it's developing normally and the whole age factor still makes me really nervous about this."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, kissing the top of her head lightly. He was a little distraught but hardly surprised when he felt gentle sobs beginning to rock her body. In this situation, everyone had to fall apart at some point. He was just glad that it was happening here with him and not in front of Stevens. He held her, running his hands up and down her back in a soothing motion. He knew that there was nothing he could say to make things better but he wanted to be here with her and show her his support. Sharon's arms came up around him, holding him back. After a moment, she straightened up and tried a smile. He squeezed her hand and gently wiped the remaining tears from her face with his thumb.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "It's just that the critical 48 hour period is almost up and we still haven't heard from the kidnappers, if there are any others- I just can't make sense of what happened. And then I feel so guilty. For lying to Rusty and for leaving him all alone at that party and for laying all of this on Laura and James and for putting the little one at risk by not eating and sleeping properly, Andy- I feel as if I am letting all my children down constantly and I don't know how to stop!"

Sharon Raydor wasn't usually for hysterics, but he could see that that was were she was going rapidly right now. Her hands were shaking and he could see fresh tears welling up in her eyes. How stupid of him to think that anyone's calm demeanor could persist through a situation like this. After months in a relationship with Sharon, he still unconsciously assigned her superhuman abilities that she clearly didn't possess.

"Hey," he reached out and took her hands between his. "What's done is done although I don't think you did anything wrong with Rusty. Your kids will hold up and ours-" He caressed her side. "You've slept, you're eating right now, you're doing your best. You're not in any pain, are you? More nauseous or light-headed than usual?"

She shook her head.

"Then you're fine, Sharon. You're not going to lose our baby, okay? We'll find Rusty and we'll sort it all out. None of this is your fault."

She looked away from him without moving her head an inch in that elusive little rolling of her eyes that always told him that there was a part of her that was too distant for him to grasp. She did confide in him, she did trust him and she even loved him, but she was too used to functioning on her own to give him or anyone full access to the part of her that housed her insecurities.

"For god's sake, Sharon! Stop blaming yourself. This is something that you cannot influence, it was completely beyond your control! You have to accept that sometimes it happens. Sometimes you cannot control everything. Not even you."

The sudden ringing of her phone startled them both and she quickly searched her pockets for it.

"Lieutenant," she said and tensed when the caller spoke. "All right. I'll be right there."

She disconnected the call and rose hurriedly. "That was Provenza. There was another note. Delivered to the office this time."

* * *

Sharon insisted that Flynn stay behind and follow her to the office at least fifteen minutes later so they would not arrive together to be seen by Stevens. He didn't like it but when it came to work matters, she still had the last word and they both knew that she always would. She had checked the state of her eye make up in the car mirror and tugged at her blazer before she exited the elevator and strode towards the murder room. Her own team was already assembled around Stevens and Marx who were leaning against the White Board. She could see from the looks on her people's faces that they were still unsure whether Rusty's disappearance had turned her right back into the Wicked Witch. Subconsciously, they seemed to assume that Rusty was some kind of lucky charm that made her human. With him lost, she was a stranger again. Sharon tried a smile that only Sykes returned.

"What have you got for me?" she asked, willing her voice to sound firm and professional. Maybe they expected her to act human and finally fall apart but she knew that she wouldn't. Letting her guard down in front of Andy had helped release some of the pressure she felt and she now felt ready and able to hide behind her façade again. Anything else was really not an option if she wanted to save face. She saw that Tao was checking out her impeccable suit and hair, probably wondering whether she was actually entitled to spend so much time in front of the mirror when her child was missing. The truth was, the less confident Sharon felt, the more perfect she felt the need to look. She feared that dressing sloppily would prove to herself and to everyone that she was weak and unable to survive a situation like this. But of course Tao didn't know that and his disapproving sneer spoke volumes.

Stevens eyes were appraising but he still gave her a curt nod in greeting, then gestured towards the photo on the table in front of them. Sharon stifled a shocked gasp when she saw Rusty, curled up on his side, his left eye swollen and black, his expression one of dread. She schooled her features before looking up again, distantly aware of the fact that she might look completely indifferent now that she had suppressed all emotion.

"You said there was a note?" she asked softly.

Stevens slid the photo aside to reveal a small card with bold printed letters. "He's still alive. Wait for further instructions." The Commander's continued silence unnerved Sharon but she was not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart. The eyes of her team on her got to her. On the one hand she needed to look composed for Steven's sake, on the other hand she didn't want her team to believe that she was a block of ice. She looked up at them but when she tried to soften her face from the frozen expression it had assumed, she found herself unable to. The thought alone of a sympathetic smile from Sanchez or a nod from Provenza made her fear that she would burst into tears, so she raised her chin and took a deep breath.

"Sorry to interrupt your honeymoon, Sykes. Please team up with Detective Sanchez and review the security footage from the mall near the facility Sharon Beck was staying at. Lieutenant Provenza, I expect a full report on the autopsy as soon as I have finished up here. And Lieutenant Tao, please get in touch with Lieutenant Flynn and tell him to come here. Gentlemen."

She walked into her office without sparing the others as much as another glance, Stevens' presence lingering behind her just as what she knew had to be dumbfounded stares from her team. She knew she shouldn't act that way, but she couldn't help herself. She was Sharon Raydor, not superwoman, and all she could do not to cry was to appear invincible. She knew it was a flaw but now was hardly the time to change anything.

Facing Stevens in her own office made her feel a little safer as she was the one behind the desk and therefore had the advantage of towering over him. Marx's presence was also a comfort. Somehow she felt a connection with him that she suspected might be due to his resemblance to her son. He had much lighter hair and decidedly different features than James, so the resemblance was not physical, but their mannerisms were similar and his eyes were clear and honest. She sat down in her chair and took a sip from the water bottle she had abandoned the previous morning. At least she was not sick today so she could discreetly shoe the waste basket further under the desk.

"How do you suggest we proceed?" she asked, looking Stevens right in the eyes. She was not going to bow down to him. Not even now.

"We sent the original documents into the crime lab, but I doubt that we will receive any usable results. The CCTV monitoring the supermarket parking lot was disconnected the evening Sharon Beck's body was disposed of there," Marx explained calmly. "Our search, so far, hasn't brought up any results. However-"

He was interrupted by his superior. "However, we found another witness from the wedding. A waiter collected glasses on the table Rusty was standing next to with Sharon Beck. He says he remembers them because their exchange was so heated and in the end, Rusty flung his phone on to the floor before he headed off with his mother. He didn't hear the whole conversation but apparently Rusty was angry with another Sharon for keeping secrets from him. That would be you, I take it."

Sharon's throat felt dry but she restrained herself from swallowing in order not to look suspicious. Secrets. Plural. Had it just been used as a figure of speech or had Ronnie told Rusty about everything Sharon had kept from him? Judging from Ronnie's still rather hostile behavior, she probably hadn't honored Sharon's request to keep quiet about the pregnancy. She was such an idiot. How could she have seriously believed that keeping secrets from Rusty would do any good at all?

"I told you, I didn't tell him about his mother being close by," she said with forced calm. "I'd expect that to be the first thing she'd tell him."

Marx nodded but Stevens didn't look convinced. Sharon wasn't in as much control of her emotions as usual, but she still knew very well from years of experience how to channel her sudden fury into an act of intimidation. She rose slightly from her chair and narrowed her eyes at her nemesis.

"Look, Commander Stevens. If you have anything to say to me, say it. Otherwise I'd like you to keep quiet and do your job while I do mine. I will not tolerate your continued antagonism towards me. Quite frankly, all those lingering accusations are really getting on my nerves. Either tell me right now what you think I did wrong, or shut the hell up about it and move on."

She could see that Marx was tensing but the quick gleam in his eyes told her that he did not disapprove of what she was saying. He, too, had noticed that Stevens was being unprofessional and spiteful when it came to Sharon. The Commander rose as well, leaving Marx to be the only one seated which made him squirm uncomfortably in his seat.

"Mind my rank, Captain," he said coldly.

Sharon remained bent over the desk, holding on to it with both arms and glared up at him over the rim of her glasses. "Believe me, I am very conscious of your rank, Commander. I have investigated enough cases of insubordination in FID to know quite well about those boundaries. I believe I haven't crossed them. Do you disagree?"

The challenging tone in her voice made Stevens tremble with anger, she could see it. She waited for him to finally accuse her of sleeping with Andy Flynn, but nothing came which meant that he wasn't sure. Sharon had just won a tactical advantage by finding out that her opponent was bluffing mostly. He could not very well allege something that he had no proof of. She fought to keep the satisfied grin off her face.

"I'll keep you informed, Captain," Stevens spoke and turned to exit the office. "Marx, you'll be our liaison," he addressed his young detective and then left without as much as another glance.

Sharon took a deep breath and sat back down in her chair, adjusting her glasses. Only now she saw Marx's slight grin.

"What is it, Detective?" Her voice didn't sound as sharp as she had intended and she felt a small smile tugging at her own lips. She felt comfortable with him here, she realized. Maybe more comfortable than with any member of her own team because she wasn't his direct superior and he wasn't part of the ever-changing dynamic out there in the Murder Room. She thought of them and wondered whether they would end up disliking her as much as her very first squad back in her time as a young detective had. She hoped not, as she had begun to really appreciate each and every one of them. Somehow she had to make up for the way she was treating them since Rusty's disappearance.

"He thinks you're having an affair with Lieutenant Flynn," Marx explained, leaning forward slightly, his blue eyes serious.

"Should you be discussing this with me, Detective Marx?" she asked sharply. "because that sounds like the sort of internal intel that Commander Stevens does not want leaked to me."

Marx nodded. "Indeed, Captain. But I chose to inform you because I do not approve of the way Commander Stevens is putting pressure on you. Your private life is of no concern here. Even if you had an affair and it had to do with Rusty's disappearance, it would in no way help us find him. Why does he hold such a grudge against you?"

Sharon gave a humorless smile. "That, I do not know, Detective Marx. I appreciate your professionalism, though."

Her phone buzzed and she quickly retrieved it from her pocket. Her eyes widening, she stared at the screen where a text message from an anonymous number had appeared: "Today at midnight. Bring cash and come alone. Otherwise Rusty is dead. Address will be texted separately."

"What is it? Are you alright, Captain?" Marx asked with a worried look in his eyes.

"Ummm, yes," Sharon hurried to say. "This is… it's just a message from… my mother."

Marx nodded but she could see that he didn't believe her.


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

**A/N:**_ I am a bit excited as this is the first of what I have come to call the „Girl Power Chapters" in my horribly twisted mind. Thank you for your many encouraging reviews. I do not only enjoy them but I also always take your opinion into consideration as many of those comments are really inspiring. You guys rock. ;-)_

Sharon felt the hard surface of the brick wall against her shoulders even through the fabric of her husband's old oversized jacket that she was wearing in order to hide the bulletproof vest that was strapped around her upper body. Her legs in jeans, her feet in flat and battered old boots and her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she wouldn't even have recognized herself as the fashionable LAPD Captain. She wasn't wearing glasses tonight, acutely aware of the fact that they brought all kinds of disadvantages if one got into a fight and the contact lenses she wore so infrequently hurt her eyes. She felt small and insignificant under the vast night sky, one hand clutching the handle of a small business suitcase, the other clasped around the phone in her pocket. She was unarmed by the kidnapper's explicit orders and the exposed space of the secluded parking lot left her feeling vulnerable. She was also a little dizzy, having been too nervous to eat or sleep any before she had snuck out of her condo, leaving her sleeping children behind. The night was warm and quiet, only few stars visible in the sky. She could smell the spicy yet dry scent of a nearby stretch of lawn that mingled with the slightly sickening smell of asphalt that had been baking in the sun all day.

There was the distant sound of a car and Sharon tensed, inching closer to the wall. Like that, at least no one was able to sneak up on her from behind. Being startled caused another wave of dizziness to overcome her and she pressed her hand against her stomach instinctively but felt only the hard surface of the bulletproof vest instead of the small bump she was used to.

"Be good, little one," she murmured almost inaudibly. "I can't be distracted now."

Sharon was well aware of the fact that the adrenaline surging through her veins was the only thing that kept her going and she knew that she would need some rest soon. She had seen the possible outcome in so many members of victims' families and she fully intended not to suffer any sort of nervous breakdown. The noise of the car approached and she braced herself for the blinding car lights, raising one hand slightly to shield her eyes. The vehicle stopped only a few feet away from her, lights out, so she could still not tell whether Rusty was inside. Her professional instinct and experience, however, made her worry that he was most probably not. She stepped away from the wall, bearing her hands to show that she was not carrying a weapon and a tall figure walked towards her, dressed all in black, face covered by a ski mask. In his right hand, the man was carrying a gun. Without a word he extended his free hand and she gave him the suitcase. Sharon longed to shove her trembling hands into her pockets for comfort but she knew that he would most likely believe that she was trying to retrieve a weapon if she gave in to the urge. He had seen the twitching in her hands, however, and grabbed her by the shoulder before she could back away. She found his hands patting her down quickly and expertly. He discovered the vest and the phone which he took from her, then flung on to the ground to crush it there with his heel. He then fixed his unwavering gaze on her and spoke for the first time.

"Thank you, Captain Raydor, for your discretion." She couldn't quite place his accent but it was definitely there. He sounded gleeful when he pointed his gun at her. "I'd let you live but as a material witness, the boy is worth so much more than just your money and also, I really owe it to due diligence to dispose of you."

Sharon felt her heart begin to race and she tensed, backing against the wall, her only route of escape blocked by her assailant. This was not going according to plan at all. Her palms were sweaty and overwhelming dread rose inside her like violent nausea. She thought of Rusty, of Laura and of James who all depended on her in some way. She was about to let her children down again. Especially one.

"Please," she said in a small voice. "I'm pregnant."

He shrugged, unimpressed by her begging. "I know, but that doesn't really change anything for me, you see?"

Sharon swallowed and closed her eyes, waiting for the shot to ring out when light suddenly flared up in a blinding flash. Someone had turned the floodlights on and she had a definite advantage as she was also temporarily blinded but not startled by them. She shoved the man hard, the gun clattering to the floor where both of them blindly reached for it. There were footsteps approaching them, echoing from the wall of the small concrete guard house she had been waiting in front of. Sharon gasped when she finally grabbed hold of the gun, the cool metal reassuring against her palm. She tried to scramble to her feet but was pulled down again, her wrist colliding painfully with the concrete ground. She hissed in pain when she was thrown over backwards and tried to get an aim at her opponent, but to no avail. A moment later somebody pulled the man off her and two hands helped her to her feet. Her vision still affected by the sudden blinding lights, she blinked up at her savior, yet fully aware of whom she was dealing with even before he spoke.

"Are you alright, Captain Raydor?" Marx asked, holding on to her arm to steady her.

"I think I have sprained my wrist but otherwise I am fine. I might have to sit down for a moment, though."

"Of course, come with me, Captain." He led her towards one of the squad cars while they heard the clicking of handcuffs behind them when Detective Black arrested the perpetrator. Sharon lowered herself into the passengers seat, her feet planted firmly on the ground to steady herself against the spinning world around her. Marx gave her a moment to calm herself down before he addressed her again.

"I'm sorry. I was sure he would check the suitcase first," he said apologetically. "That would have given us time to-"

"I know the original plan, thank you," Sharon told him more sharply than intended. "It doesn't matter now."

Over his shoulder she saw Stevens approach, his face set in a solemn expression. She felt wary of the man and toyed with the idea to ask Marx to drive her to the ER to get her wrist fixed just to get away from the Commander. But then they had Rusty's kidnapper in custody and she didn't want to miss any important developments. Stevens took one look at the way Sharon was cradling her wrist and turned towards an uneasy Marx who looked like a child caught between its fighting parents.

"Get her some ice, Detective Marx." He turned towards Sharon and managed something that looked like a pained smirk. "Good work, Captain Raydor. That was very courageous of you. Do you want me to call anyone for you? You probably shouldn't be driving."

"You could call Lieutenant Provenza to sit in during your interview with the suspect," she answered coldly. "as your kidnapper is most probably our killer."

She could tell from his expression that he did not like it but had to grudgingly respect her authority in the matter. Sharon wasn't naïve enough to believe that there was any chance of her being the one to interview the suspect. She was too involved on so many levels. Her wrist felt uncomfortably hot and once the shock was wearing off, a dull pain began to vibrate through bone and muscle. Her back felt tense, too, reminding her that she had just been shoved into a brick wall. Maybe she did have to go to the Emergency Room to make sure that it hadn't harmed her unborn child. She hadn't told Andy about the ransom drop off since she was sure he would never allow her to go through with it and she had been scared that he would manage to talk her out of it. God knew, he had valid arguments. If she didn't take care of herself now, he would kill her, she was sure.

"Could you call someone else for me?" she asked Stevens, hating to depend on the man who inexplicably hated her so much as her own phone had been crushed to pieces.

* * *

Andy was furious but he also knew that he could not allow anyone to see just how much. In his mind he cursed the circumstances of his and Sharon's relationship for the umpteenth time. He had allowed himself to vent in front of Provenza to some extent, but he could not even tell his very best friend and closest confidante about the ultimate scale of his anger. For all Provenza knew, Sharon had almost gotten herself shot in a reckless undertaking. While he pretended to disapprove of her risky actions, Flynn could see that his old friend actually admired her a bit for her boldness. What Provenza didn't know and Flynn was not allowed to tell him was that she had not only risked her own life but their child's as well. Even though she did a remarkable job at hiding them, the pregnancy symptoms were hard on her and the high risk aspect of her pregnancy was not just a formality. She still got sick or dizzy at the most inopportune moments and Flynn felt outraged at the notion that she had willingly hazarded the possible consequences of that happening during the drop off. And then there was the small fact that she had deliberately kept the plan from him. Just that evening, he had hugged and kissed her goodbye after making her promise to get some rest and he felt betrayed.

She was at the hospital now, having asked Barbara to drive her there instead of him which angered him even further. He did understand the need for secrecy, but this was taking it a step too far. As her phone was broken and he did not have Barbara's number, he had no way of knowing what her condition was and despite his being livid with her, he was terribly worried. Provenza had said something about her struggling with the kidnapper and just thinking about that made him nauseous.

When the door to the monitor room opened, he turned around and found Sharon standing there in the spare suit she kept in the office should the need for a change of clothes arise. Her blouse was untucked and she was hastily buttoning her jacket over it. Right behind her was her best friend Barbara, a woman he had rapidly taken to but now felt oddly jealous of. For a moment he was silently debating whether he should kill or kiss Sharon and he was somewhat glad that he merely had to act like a mildly concerned Lieutenant to her Captain for that saved him from having to make that decision.

His arms crossed, he turned around to face her. "Hello, Captain," he said coolly. "I heard about what happened tonight. Are you alright?" His voice sounded hollow as he was working hard to keep all audible emotion out of it.

Sharon nodded cautiously, slightly raising her hand that he only now noticed was bandaged.

"Sprained my wrist and probably got a few bruises down my back but it's okay."

Her expression was completely unreadable and yet he searched her face for any signs of distress that could point towards anything else being wrong that she didn't want to talk about in front of Buzz and Provenza. She quickly turned away from him and sat down on the chair next to Buzz to look at the empty interview room on the monitors. While Flynn half-listened to Buzz explaining to her that the suspect had requested a specific lawyer that they were still waiting for, he looked up at Barbara who gave him a reassuring nod. He instantly felt guilty for feeling unkindly towards her just a moment ago. Barbara reached out and grabbed a twizzler from the opened package on the table, chewing it with vigor.

"You!" She pointed at Flynn as if she hadn't spent several evenings with him and Sharon in the past, thus playing her part perfectly. "Could you point me to the break room? I need coffee to function at this hour. Lots of it."

"Yeah, sure." Flynn led her towards her desired destination and stood by the coffee machine while she poured herself a large cup. She gave him a long dark look when he pointed out that she had just filled a large mug right to the brim with espresso instead of regular coffee.

"I am a lawyer, Andy. My body is so used to ridiculous amounts of caffeine that it takes a lot to kick it into gear in the middle of the night." She took a long draft from the steaming black liquid without as much as flinching. "Sharon asked me to try and somehow get you alone so I could tell you that the baby's fine. She had an ultrasound done at the hospital and everything was normal. Meaning it looked all creepy and alienish with those long thin fingers." She wriggled her fingers eerily. "I also bought Sharon a sandwich and forced it down her throat. You might be relieved to hear that I have learned how to take care of stubborn pregnant women the hard way." She rolled her eyes. "When she kicked Charles out, she was depressed for weeks and unresponsive to any attempt to get some sense talked into her. I'm just glad she has you now. I still don't have all the feeling back in my pinkie finger from when James was born." She held up her finger for inspection. "Be prepared. That woman has a very hard grip."

As usual, Barbara's dry humor managed to make Flynn's brooding mood disappear. While he was still angry with Sharon for going rogue, he felt a little pacified by the fact that she was making sure he was informed about the baby's condition.

"She's nuts!" he told Barbara in a sudden outburst. "How could she do that? How could she lie to me like that?"

Barbara rolled her eyes again. "Yell at her, not at me." When she became aware of Andy's devastated expression, she sobered instantly. "I disapprove of her actions as much as you do, Andy, but what would you have done in her stead? For all we know, Rusty is in terrible danger and it was the only way to make an arrest. The whole Missing Persons team was there and in the end they got her out in time. There is a good chance we'll find Rusty now that we have his kidnapper in custody and then this nightmare will finally be over."

Before Andy could talk, a soft voice called for him from the door. He and Barbara turned and found Sharon, smiling faintly. "Apparently that lawyer comes from across town. Until he arrives the suspect won't even tell us his name."

"Well," Barbara said a little less eloquently than usual. "I should go. Do stuff. Look at things. Annoy people." She wandered off and left Andy alone with Sharon who stood frozen by the door, her eyes suddenly full of tears. He remained by the coffee machine, rooted to the spot himself. The blouse that came with her spare suit was getting tight and therefore reminded him of her betrayal. Sharon didn't move and just looked at him. He could tell from the look of her that she was not going to apologize to him for what she had done which both infuriated and impressed him. She hummed – a desperate sound that spoke of the tension that had accumulated inside her.

"We're both okay," she told him in a quiet voice he had never heard before. "Did Barbara tell you that?"

Having been asked a direct question, he felt obliged to answer although he would have felt more comfortable continuing to give her the silent treatment. "She did," he replied curtly, too angry to be kind and too worried for her to actually yell.

She closed her eyes and leaned slightly into the door frame. "I know it was a close call, Andy," she finally said after a long moment of strained silence. A tear ran down her cheek and she reached up to wipe it away before the glistening liquid could make its way down to her jaw. When he remained silent, she nodded and looked at the floor.

"I'll be in the monitor room." That said, she turned around to make towards the hallway then paused and faced him again. "The ultrasound," she told him. "They said they can't be completely sure because it's still early, but it looks like a girl."

Andy suddenly felt shaken. The baby's gender was not something he felt prepared to deal with right now and he knew he would regret his next words before he had even finished saying them: "Well, Sharon. From what Provenza told me, it would have been pretty damn possible for me to find out about the baby's gender from Dr Morales. That's what you almost did to me." She flinched at the nasty tone his voice had assumed and gave one of her uncomfortable closed mouth smirks before she left without another word.

Andy was trembling with both shame and anger, unable to find an outlet for his wrath. He knew his words had hurt her but the idea of staring down at her dead body in Dr Morale's morgue sent shivers down his spine. He had known her long before they'd actually embarked on a romantic relationship but the last seven months had made him unable to fathom what he would do if anything happened to her. Today he realized how easy it would be to lose her in the line of work they were in. And he had no way of preventing it or protecting her because she would not let him. Sharon always did what she thought she had to do and he would never be able to stop her. Andy's ex-wife had been completely different: Reliant, a little needy and always ready to listen to him if his opinion differed from hers. Their marriage had been rocky from the start and had become even more so when he'd started drinking, which was different with Sharon. When he was around her, he felt at peace and their whole situation, which should have been a hot mess from the start with their jobs, her need for control, her foster son and estranged husband, had been surprisingly comfortable up until now. He loved Sharon precisely because she was the way she was – independent, strong, stubborn – but he hated the lack of control her need to always be on top of things and make all of her decision alone caused for him. He was not ready to always step back and let her handle things because even though she was his superior officer at work, he wanted to be her equal in their personal lives. Sometimes Sharon seemed to forget that and it made him angry.

* * *

"Are you alright?" Barbara whispered as soon as Sharon had taken the seat next to her. There was technically no need for lowered voices as Buzz and Provenza had stepped out to get coffee and some cookies to fill their rumbling stomachs but she was grateful for the discretion.

"Yes," she answered cautiously. "Andy is pretty angry with me."

Barbara smirked. "I think furious is more like it, Sharry. Try to imagine yourself in his situation. You'd kill him if he did something like that without informing you about it beforehand."

Sharon thoughtfully regarded the monitor where her assailant was perched on a plastic chair, his arms on the table in front of him. His face didn't look familiar. Neither did the blond hair or athletic built but she felt oddly connected to him in a twisted, uncomfortable way. That man had almost taken her life in cold blood, unmoved even by the fact that she was carrying a child. If this man was the one who had killed Ronnie Beck, if he had Rusty hidden away somewhere, the situation was dire. His face possessed hard angles, a prominent sharp nose and piercing eyes. He looked cold and despite the fact that he could not hurt her now, Sharon did feel intimidated by him. She felt Barbara's hand cover hers on the table and smiled at her best friend, feeling tears welling up with the feeling of comfort that her presence brought. They had gone through absolutely everything together. The last year of high school when a sullen teenage Barbara had moved to Salt Lake City with her newly widowed father. The first years of college, sharing a dorm and a common dream of going to law school. Sharon's first unexpected pregnancy. Barbara's first real heartbreak. Sharon's separation with Barbara staying over and turning Charles away when he showed up drunk again in the middle of the night. A health scare when Barbara discovered a lump in her left breast. Relief when they were told that it wasn't malignant. Laura's high school graduation. Barbara becoming partner of her law firm. Everything. And here she was again, unwavering in her support. When Brenda Leigh Johnson had introduced Sharon as her friend and her parents had reacted with surprise that she had one, Sharon had felt bad for the other woman. Not having a best friend was something she could not imagine.

"Thank you for being here, Babs," she whispered and leaned her head against the other woman's shoulder for a moment. "I don't know how to thank you for this."

Barbara's arm came up around her and squeezed her shoulder. "Just try not to get yourself killed, okay? And don't call me Babs."

"Captain Raydor?" Marx stood in the doorway, dark circles under his eyes because of his lack of sleep, but adrenaline visibly surging through his body. His eyes landed on Barbara and he smiled. "You must be the best friend. I am Detective Marx."

Barbara gave him a predatory smile and extended her hand for him to shake. "Please, call me Barbara." The younger man seemed slightly taken aback by her obvious flirtation but shook her hand dutifully.

"How's your hand, Captain Raydor?"

"It's okay, thanks."

"Our suspect's lawyer just arrived. Commander Stevens and I will go in to question him. I was actually going to get Lieutenant Provenza to sit in. Where is he?"

"Break room. Stuffing his face with chocolate chip cookies," Andy's voice came from the door. His eyes bore into Sharon's and she nodded towards Marx.

"Take Lieutenant Flynn, then."

Marx nodded at the older man and followed him out, leaving Barbara and Sharon on their own again. Barbara nudged Sharon's arm and grinned, intoning "puppy love" in a singsong voice.

"Excuse me?" Sharon asked, raising her eyebrows.

"That Marx guy likes you, Sharon," Barbara chuckled. "I wouldn't mind being liked by him. He is kind of hot."

Sharon rolled her eyes but was spared more details on what Barbara liked about the young Detective when there was movement on the screen. Stevens, Marx and Andy Flynn took their seats across from the blond man who was joined by a thin, haggard-looking man with hair that looked unnaturally dark against his wrinkled, pale face. Vampire comparisons came to mind. Sharon studied Andy's grim face and wondered whether it had been a good idea to send him in. She wouldn't put it past him to jump over the table and throttle the suspect, but the look in his eyes had told her that he wanted some control over the situation and this was the only way she knew how to give him that. She knew she was hard to deal with and she was trying to give him more access to her and let go of some of her steadfast resolve to always remain in control, but it was hard.

It turned out that the suspect's name was Vladimir Karkaroff from Poland, which allowed Sharon to finally place his accent. A newly returned Buzz ran his name in the database and found that he had been arrested multiple times for aiding in robberies, having always been bailed out by his lawyer who seemed to possess a sharp tongue and a brilliant legal mind despite his unhealthy looks. Karkaroff was a professional criminal, it seemed, and he knew better than to give up any information on Rusty.

"We could make a deal here," Stevens offered. "You give us the whereabouts of Rusty Beck and we lower the charges for Sharon Beck's murder to Murder Two while we forget about your assault on a police officer."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Karkaroff said with a gleam in his eyes. Despite the fact that he was facing years in prison, he was enjoying the situation to some extent.

"My client didn't murder anyone," his lawyer interjected in a silky voice that sent shivers down Sharon's spine. They had done this before. Multiple times probably and they both knew exactly what to say. The interview was not going well.

"You were about to kill Captain Raydor when we arrested you," Marx said. "That is something you cannot deny."

Karkaroff grinned slightly, playing dumb. "I can and I will. I was never going to kill Sharon Raydor. She must confuse me with a ruthless bastard if she says so." He looked up at the camera and gave an eery smile that Sharon instinctively knew was meant for her. "I don't shoot pregnant ladies."

"Shit," Barbara hissed and Sharon gave her a glare that was too late to silence her, given the shocked gasps that came from Buzz and Provenza behind her. Sharon stiffened but deliberately refrained from turning around to face them. Instead she focused on Marx and Stevens who looked pained and shocked respectively. Andy's face had hardened to the point where his eyes were narrowed to angry slits.

"Stop that goddamn charade and tell us about Rusty Beck's whereabouts!" he ordered but Karkaroff only shrugged. "I don't know anything about that. I was just hired to pick up the money. I didn't even know it was ransom."

"You're lying," Marx said, his voice rising with anger, making him sound younger than he usually did.

"My client and I would like a break to discuss matters," the lawyer said evenly. "Fifteen minutes will suffice. Could you provide us with some privacy?"

Sharon leaned back in her chair when everyone filed out of the interview room, leaving the screen filled only with the empty table and scattered chairs. She placed her hand over her eyes to avoid having to look at anyone but she could tell that Provenza and Buzz were staring at her. She didn't feel in the mood to face them so she shakily rose from her seat.

"I'll be in my office for a moment," she murmured and fled the room, shutting the blinds and settling into her chair. She cradled her head in both hands and rested her elbows on the table. This was not how she had planned for this to go. To be honest, she hadn't had much of a plan in the first place on how this was supposed to go down. Anything she'd considered, however, had involved keeping her secret a while longer while she and Andy figured things out. Now all of this was one big mess and she felt ready to curl up into a ball and refuse to acknowledge the harsh reality of it all. A knock on the door startled her and she called for them to come in, hoping it was Barbara with some words of comfort or dry humor to pep talk her back into gear. To her horror, she found herself faced with Lieutenant Provenza in all his grumpy glory, bottle of water in hand.

"Thought you might need a drink, Capt'n," he murmured and sat down without being invited to do so. Sharon didn't have the strength to kick him out and leaned back in her chair, stretching her legs uncomfortably. Her back was beginning to really bother her and she felt a little like kicking Karkaroff in the head for beating her up. Maybe she would. Her ties to FID were still strong enough to get away with a little police violence. She opened her eyes again to peer at the uncharacteristically silent Provenza in front of her. He seemed to take it as encouragement and leaned forward slightly.

"You're not pregnant, are you? You're 49, Andy's 51. That would be completely crazy." Sharon, who knew that the question was somewhat rhetorical in nature and would be answered by silence just as well as by verbal confirmation, just looked at Provenza. After a short period of silence, the older man shook his head in disbelief. Then, to her complete surprise, he grinned slightly. "And we thought you had cancer!"

Now it was Sharon's turn to be stunned. "Excuse me?" she asked, taking her glasses off in an effort to busy her restless hands.

"Your behavior was completely weird, Captain. You were always feeling under the weather, always off to doctor's appointments and, frankly, most of the time you and Andy looked as if someone had just died."

Sharon shook her head. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Provenza snorted. "Andy's barely talked to me lately and you snapped at everyone who even as much as offered you a chair when you were obviously dizzy again. We didn't know who exactly to turn to with such a sensitive matter."

Sharon couldn't prevent an exasperated sigh from escaping her. "I screwed up, didn't I?" she asked wearily.

"It wasn't exactly an exercise in team-building, but I see the problems you were facing. The only one who'll really get burned is that goddamn bastard Flynn. I am his best friend and he neglected to tell me about that little detail."

Sharon smiled sadly. "Don't blame him. I told him to keep his mouth shut. He wasn't happy with it, either."

"As my oldest grandson put it so eloquently the last time I saw him: 'Bros before hoes.' There is no excuse." He chuckled at Sharon's confused expression. "You need to urban dictionary it."

"Urban…?" Sharon began but he cut her off.

"Anyway. I did come here to find out whether there's any truth to the pregnancy thing, but there is also something else."

Sharon sat up straight, ready to assume her role as head of Major Crimes once again. "Please go ahead, Lieutenant."

Provenza folded his arms in front of his chest, resting them on his belly. "I know that lawyer. His name is Gideon Craig and he is a really smooth son of a bitch. He always comes late so everyone is eager to jump right into questioning his clients and then he requests a recess to be able to brief them on the line of questioning they have to expect. He does that really well and it's almost impossible to get anything out of any of his clients."

"That is not very encouraging," Sharon said, her shoulders sagging. She could see, though, that Provenza had something else up his sleeve when he leaned forward on to her desk with the ghost of a gleeful smile spreading across his face.

"Oh, but this is: There is one person who managed to crack his clients."

As if on cue, there was another knock on the door which flew open before Sharon even had a chance to reply. She was shocked by the amount of relief and encouragement the sight of the figure standing in the doorway was able to bring her.

"I like what you've done to the office, Captain."

The blond woman flashed her a bright smile, hand resting on the handle of a very familiar oversized black leather handbag that was slung over her shoulder, pink skirt and flowery blouse rustling as she approached the desk. Sharon got up, feeling faint and overwhelmed but reassured at the same time.

"Chief Johnson! It's good to see you," she blurted out.

Brenda smiled again, confidence radiating off her like comforting beams of warm sunlight.

"Please, it's Brenda. And now: Where's that sleazy bastard?"


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

He bypassed the set of elevators and made for the stairs, his trainers creaking on the expensive tiles of the apartment building. The staircase was dimly lit and completely empty. This was not a house that suffered from continuous elevator malfunctions, so the staircase was rarely being used at all. He climbed the first flight of stairs, fully aware of the fact that he would be completely exhausted once he reached the correct floor. His legs began to hurt after only three flights of stairs, hot pain shooting down his thigh muscles while he tried to keep the sound of his breathing down in order to be able to hear whether he was being followed. Was that the sound of a door closing three floors below him or had his mind been pushed into overdrive and was starting to imagine things? Were those only his own footsteps or were they joined by a second pair of hurried feet?

He wasn't one to be sensitive to smells. You couldn't be if you were in his former line of work or you would go crazy. But this smell was painfully familiar and he would have been able to pick it out among millions of others. It still persisted in his nostrils, the memory indistinguishable from the real thing. Only one more flight of stairs. He could not stop now. One more set of stairs until safety. He only noticed that his hand was sweaty when he reached for the doorknob and stumbled into the familiar quiet corridor. Panting from the exercise, he turned left and half-stumbled towards the safe haven of the apartment. His hands were shaking and the key almost slipped through his trembling fingers when he made a first attempt to unlock it. Behind him, he could hear the ominous whirring of the elevator. With a relieved cry he stumbled into the apartment and kicked the door closed with a bang behind him. He leaned against it, panting with fear and exhaustion, and listened for footsteps. Were they right behind him? Was he safe inside?

The sound of a door being opened startled him and he jumped, all the adrenaline that had begun to ebb away suddenly returning in one overwhelming outpour. He jerked his head sideways and found Sharon standing in the opened bedroom door. Despite the fact that it was early afternoon, she was wearing only pajamas. She usually donned slippers and a robe whenever she was dressed in her nightclothes around the apartment, so he could tell that something was off with her. With his own rapidly beating heart and ragged breath, he could not muster any words of comfort, however.

"Rusty, are you okay? Is something wrong?" Sharon padded towards him and seized both of his arms. "You're trembling, honey. What happened?"

Her hands felt comfortably cool on his heated skin and her calming presence reassured him instantly. Already he was beginning to wonder whether he had just imagined the threat. Impulsively, he reached out and wrapped his arms tightly around his foster mother. Sharon gave a surprised yelp but then leaned into him and rubbed his back in a comforting motion. She was warm so he could tell that she had been in bed, probably sleeping.

"Are you sick?" he asked into her tousled hair. She gently disentangled their limbs and took a step back to be able to look at him again.

"Yes. I've been throwing up all morning. Provenza sent me home. Said I should remove myself from the premises because I was grossing everyone out." She smirked self-consciously.

"I bet he was just worried," Rusty said, his voice still shaking. "Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?"

Sharon shook her head. "No, thank you. I have more tea than I could ever drink. But would you like to come in and sit with me for a while?" He could tell from the vigilant look in her eyes that she was not fooled by his feigned calm demeanor. Sharon was persistent when it came to things that worried her and he knew that she would continue asking subtle questions until he came out with the truth. He didn't want to talk to her about it, already feeling foolish as he was now almost convinced that he had imagined it all, but he followed her into her bedroom anyway. Sharon climbed into bed and pulled the covers over herself while he perched on the side of it, his feet on the floor.

Close up and in the light of the afternoon sun that came streaming in through the bay window, he could see how pale she was and that she had dark circles under her eyes despite the fact that she had retired to bed early the previous night. There was still some of the make-up left that she had applied that morning, but it did nothing to hide her illness. Sharon noticed his scrutinizing gaze and quickly pulled her hands off her stomach.

"It's okay, I'm not dying." She grinned at him. "Stomach flu's been going around for weeks. It had to strike sooner or later, so don't come too close or you're next."

Rusty and Sharon had been living together for a while now and while he was not able to read her as well as she did him, he could also tell when she was not entirely truthful. And he knew that she would have never invited him into her bedroom if she thought that she was contagious and that he might catch the flu from her.

"Are you sure it's the flu?" he asked. "You've been feeling ill for weeks."

Sharon looked uncomfortable for a moment but then she smiled and reached out to pat his arm. "I know. It was a pretty stressful time but I don't want you to worry. I've been in touch with my doctor and there is nothing wrong with me. Except, you know, the obvious."

"Sharon, you're keeping something from me," he said despite the fact that he was already half-convinced she was telling the truth. He hadn't expected the shocked look on her face. Her hand closed around the hem of her comforter.

"And you're keeping something from me, Rusty. What scared you so much just a moment ago?"

Rusty looked down at his hands to avoid her intense gaze which prompted her to rummage through the assortment of books, papers, pill bottles and whatnot on her bedside table to find her glasses. He watched her slip them on and smiled despite the immediate implications of the fact that she always put her glasses on when she suspected trouble. Sharon was the neatest person he'd ever met and even his obsessive-compulsive biology teacher paled in comparison. It just seemed to be in Sharon's nature to to replace everything in its exact spot and at the exact angle without consciously trying to. He had found out, however, that there was one exception to her neatness: Her beside table and drawer, which were pure chaos most of the time. Apparently taking his smile as encouragement, Sharon reached over and gently ran her thumb across his shoulder.

"You can tell me anything, you know. I'm far too exhausted to properly be mad at you."

"I didn't get into trouble," he hurried to say. "It's just-"

He took in the view of her in her comfortable pajamas, half-buried under her thick covers. He trusted the woman in front of him and she had never given him any reason not to do so. Sharon had always been kind and, to some extent, selfless. She made sure he knew that she loved him without actually ever saying so and he was content with the surprisingly certain knowledge that she considered him her son as much as she did James. So why was he hesitating now? He knew that his secrets would be safe with her. He straightened up, willing himself to appear unfazed by what he was about to tell her.

"Okay, we'll make one of those deals you like so much: I tell you about my secret, you tell me about yours."

She looked uneasy for a moment but then nodded. "Deal."

"Remember when we returned home from shopping last week?" he asked. "When Andy didn't want you to carry all the bags because you were about to drop them?" Sharon nodded, her expression relaxed with the memory of the dinner they had all shared. "When we entered the elevator, there was that smell. Like some sort of perfume."

Sharon crinkled her nose. "I do remember that. It was awful."

Rusty nodded grimly. "And it was not just that. That smell- that aftershave- My mother's boyfriend used to use it. It was so persistent that it seemed to stick to every piece of fabric in our apartment. Every breath I took contained that smell and I never got used to it. It was worst when he was close, which was actually only when he beat me up again." Rusty could feel tears threatening to spill and he swallowed deeply, avoiding Sharon's eyes. "I would never be able to forget the way he smelled and when that smell hung in that elevator, I panicked." He looked up at her and found a devastated expression on her face, one hand on top of the comforter, ready to reach out to comfort him. "Today when I entered the building, it was there again and it wasn't just lingering like last time. It was much stronger - as if the man wearing it was still present. Then I heard footsteps down the hall and I freaked completely. The elevators were both up so I took the stairs. I felt like he was right behind me, ready to strike. Sometimes, you know, I feel almost… relieved that they abandoned me at the zoo because he hated me so damn much and she did everything he wanted her to do. I was scared that he would kill me one day."

He fell silent now that he had told the whole story and he finally felt Sharon's now warm hand caressing his arm. Her sheets rustled when she inched closer to him and offered an embrace. Rusty hesitated for a moment, worried that he would begin to cry if she held him, but then gave in and hugged her. She smelled of toothpaste and her favorite shampoo that he had once knocked over in the bathroom and it comforted him, slowly replacing the ghost of the aftershave's smell in his nose.

"I think, Rusty," Sharon said carefully. "that you had a panic attack there. You have been through a lot and now that you have settled down and are comfortable in your new surroundings, your mind is beginning to process everything that happened to you. Your past is coming back to haunt you, so to speak."

"But that's not fair! I want all that to stay in the past! What's done is done. There is no use in dealing with it now!" Rusty snapped at her. "I want to be able to enjoy my life for a bit, not get scared by some faceless neighbor with a bad taste in aftershaves!"

"I understand," Sharon said soothingly, as usual unimpressed by his raised voice and angry tone. "but maybe you should consider seeing someone about this. It might help you deal with it."

Rusty rolled his eyes. He was beginning to get angry at her instead of himself. "A shrink? You tried to get me to go to one before, remember? I said I don't talk to these people. I'm not a basket case. Get that?"

"Nobody thinks you're crazy," Sharon said. "Look at it as a kind of wound. Physical Injuries are being treated by medical doctors, mental ones by psychologists. It's nothing to feel embarrassed about."

Rusty had never seen it that way and it sounded reasonable, but he was not about to admit it. "I just wish it would stop just like that," he admitted. "Three weeks to go until my finals and I am already scared as hell."

Sharon looked genuinely surprised now. "I didn't know that, Rusty. Why are you so scared? Your grades have been fine so far. As far as I can see, you have absolutely nothing to worry about."

He shook his head. "I have a lot of catching up to do, Sharon, as I missed so much back when… you know. And I don't want to be forced to go to summer school with the trial coming up in September and all. It's just a bit much at the moment. I am barely able to sleep."

"Tell me if there's anything I can do to help," Sharon said, squeezing his arm again. "I know it's hard, but if you can think of something, tell me."

He attempted a grin, uneasy at the notion that he had just told her all about his insecurities and fears. Telling someone else made the challenges he felt he was facing more real but on the upside it was also oddly comforting to share the burden. It was so long that he had last been so open with someone that he had all but forgotten how good it could feel.

"Maybe you could get better so I can take my moods out on you again. With all those things I am already worried about, I don't want to have to worry about you on top of it all. Which brings me to your side of our deal: What is it you're hiding?"

Sharon, who had begun to laugh at the first part of his statement, looked as uncomfortable as he had ever seen her before she caught herself and tilted her head slightly.

"Well, fair enough, Rusty, but there is nothing to tell, really. I might have overdone it lately - and I feel a bit embarrassed due to that - so my doctor told me to take it easy for a while. I am not exactly in a position to comply with that order right now so I guess my exhausted body decided to get back at me and caught this flu. That's all there is to it." She gave an exaggerated shrug. "Nothing to worry about."

She looked genuine enough but her answer didn't seem to justify her discomfort at being forced to tell him. But then again, she was as hesitant as he was when it came to admitting weakness and he was inclined to believe her. She was probably ashamed that her body was betraying her.

"Okay," he said. "then stop pushing yourself and get some rest. I'll be in my room to try and get some homework done."

"Yes, Sir," Sharon said and settled back into her pillows, pulling her covers up. "If Andy calls, tell him I'm dead. He had the nerve to laugh when I didn't make it to the bathroom and had to, eh, use Provenza's waste basket."

Rusty shook his head, laughter bubbling up at the mental image. "I think I am beginning to see why Provenza told you you were grossing everyone out."

He shut the door against Sharon's combative growl.

* * *

Walking back into the monitor room felt a bit like facing a firing squad even with Brenda by Sharon's side. In her absence, Tao, Sanchez and Sykes had joined Buzz, Flynn and Provenza in the small room that was now overcrowded which would force her to wriggle past all of them in order to get to her chair. It was standard practice to film interviews and show the recordings to officers who had missed the original interrogation, so she knew that neither Buzz nor Provenza had any way of preventing the news from leaking out to the rest of the team. As soon as she appeared in the doorway, five pairs of eyes stared at her in bewilderment. The only person who wasn't looking at her was Andy who suddenly seemed to find his cuticles immensely interesting. She instinctively squared her shoulders, reacting to the looks of surprise the same way she had been reacting to open hostility for years. She knew that she would have to acknowledge them sooner or later, that as their Captain she had to give them at least a little insight even though she hated sharing too much of her private life with people at work.

"I'm glad you could all make it. Sorry for forcing you out of bed at this hour. Chief Johnson has generously offered to sit in with the interview for us. I thought you'd all like to say hello before she joins Commander Stevens down there."

The stunned silence in the room dissolved into excited chatter as Brenda walked in and received hugs from everyone in turn. The only one who felt as alien to the reunion as Sharon was Sykes, who had never worked with Brenda. The young officer made her way over to Sharon and came to stand next to her. Obviously nervous to address her boss, Sharon was reminded of how young the other woman was. Sykes fiddled with the sleeve of her jacket and then took a deep breath.

"Is it true, Captain?" Sharon couldn't tell whether Sykes was scandalized or happy for her and she dreaded her reaction just as much as she did everyone else's. If she had to listen to anyone pointing out that she would be in her sixties once the kid was in high school one more time, she was sure she would have great difficulties to keep herself from shooting them. She was aware of every little disadvantage her situation brought about and she didn't need anyone else to dwell on them. People seemed to be forgetful of the fact that the alternative would be to terminate the pregnancy which would deny the child the very right to live. And that, she mused, wasn't any better than growing up with loving yet unusually old parents. After her doctor had shocked her with the tight-lipped comment that at 49 she was well past the proper age to get pregnant, she had begun to piece together a little speech on how she had never decided to conceive that child but that she would protect it with all she had. She had never needed to deliver her carefully prepared lines so far, so she wasn't sure that it wouldn't sound pathetic when she said it out loud.

"Yes, it's true," she answered Sykes' question after a prolonged period of silence. Sykes threw a cautious glance at the rest of the team and then stood closer to Sharon, discretely grabbed her hand, the gesture half-disguised between their bodies, and squeezed it.

"That's great, Captain, really! I knew it!" she whispered conspiratorially. When she caught Sharon's confused gaze, she grinned. "The others thought you were seriously ill, but I am a woman, Captain. I wasn't sure at first because of your – um – age , but the signs are pretty distinct. I didn't tell anyone, though." Sharon was surprised to see the normally reserved young woman so enthusiastic and her heart went out to her for a moment.

"Thank you, Amy." While Amy offered her assistance in anything in a hushed voice, Sharon looked over at the rest of the team who was still surrounding Brenda. Her leadership was a lot different from Brenda's. While she prided herself in being a lot less impulsive and rather level-headed, maybe she had to adapt a little of Brenda's easy companionship with her team. Sharon had found her rhythm with them, but it had been severely disrupted by the challenges she was facing in her personal life. Sykes was the best example that her team consisted of human beings with a strong sense of loyalty. Instead of alienating them, Sharon decided, she had to support them and allow them to support her in turn. As soon as this was over, she would take them all out to dinner and make up for her recent distant behavior. And hopefully Rusty would be with them, wolfing down hamburgers. The mental image warmed her heart and she finally mustered the courage to walk towards her chair.

"I think it's time, Brenda," she said, interrupting the heartfelt reunion.

"Alright." Brenda rubbed her hands, obviously overjoyed at being back in the field. "Let me just brief my boy Stevens before I go in." She smiled and walked out with a tiny wave, leaving the team in sudden silence. Sharon realized that keeping quiet and ignoring their stares would not settle the uncomfortable tension in the room. She had to address the issue head-on - as much as she resented it. Somehow life as a leader had been a lot easier in FID where she had mostly delegated certain tasks and otherwise worked by herself. She closed the door to avoid being overheard by anyone passing by in the hallway and consciously refrained from folding her arms in front of her chest as it was too defensive a gesture.

"I guess you're all wondering whether there is any truth to what Mr Karkaroff said during the interview or whether he was just cracking inappropriate jokes at my weight." Their faces relaxed a little at the joke but Andy was still staring at his hands. "Well, it is true, but I would be grateful if you could hold the questions you may have for another time. Maybe we can discuss the details of this in a more… appropriate setting." Provenza was already smiling at the flustered tone in her voice and she could feel Amy's fingers brushing her shoulder lightly in a reassuring gesture. There was a moment of complete silence then Sanchez hit Flynn in the shoulder with his fist, startling the other man so much that he almost swallowed his toothpick.

"You old philanderer! I can't believe it!"

Despite their issues, Sharon's and Andy's eyes met in mutual shock. They had always known that they weren't perfect at hiding their relationship, but they'd had no idea that they were that transparent. Sykes was the only one who didn't seem to get it, proving once again that while she was very observant concerning certain matters, others completely eluded her. Sharon was not in the mood to clear things up for the young detective as she was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she and Andy were at opposite sides of the room once again, still devided by the day's events.

"Congratulations, Captain!" Tao extended his hand for her to shake with a genuine smile. "We were pretty worried for you."

Sanchez seemed done beating up Flynn and shook Sharon's hand, too, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. "I second that. Don't scare us like that again, Captain!"

"Thank you all very much." The words came out in a sigh of relief. She had expected bewilderment and probably even antagonism, not careful enthusiasm. Buzz rose from his chair to also congratulate her while Provenza took it upon himself to pester Flynn a little. Sharon wasn't sure how angry he really was with his best friend for keeping him out of the loop. It was hard to tell with the ever-grumbling old man.

"You're quite an asshole, Andy," he told a grimacing Flynn. "When she threw up into my waste basket, you actually _laughed _when you were the one responsible for her condition!"

Andy hurled a disgruntled "Why do you all make it sound as if I was solely responsible? It takes two to tango!" at his friend which made everyone groan at the clichéd comment. Sharon, however, froze in her tracks when realization hit her. She remembered that day well. After being violently sick at work she had given up mid-morning and had headed home to sleep it off. She had been woken by Rusty's arrival at home and had found him horribly distraught, leaning against the apartment door as if trying to keep it shut against an invisible enemy. He had told her about what she had immediately assumed were panic attacks and she had shied away from revealing her pregnancy to him at the very last minute because he had told her about the pressure he felt due to his finals.

But what if it hadn't been a coincidence? What if Ronnie Beck had lured Rusty away from the wedding because she had teamed up with her ex-boyfriend again? What if she had done his bidding in order to extract money from Sharon? Ronnie had certainly been aware of Sharon's comfortable financial situation. Maybe they had teamed up with an experienced criminal and something had gone wrong enough to lead to Ronnie's untimely demise. Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place and Sharon grabbed Sanchez, who was still standing closest to her.

"Julio, please go and tell Brenda that Sharon Beck's ex-boyfriend is most certainly involved in the kidnapping. No questions now, please. I'll explain it all later. Mike, please check the databases for the man's name and any information you can get on him."

Both men went right to their tasks and left Sharon nervous but excited. "You think that the boyfriend is involved?" Sykes asked.

"It's just a hunch but it would make a lot of sense, wouldn't it? Between Ronnie Beck turning up dead and a seemingly random ruthless criminal like that one, a violent ex-boyfriend is very likely to be the missing link."

Provenza, Sykes and Buzz nodded in astonishment and began to discuss the matter among themselves excitedly which left Sharon some room to sit down next to Flynn. Now that everyone was in the know about the nature of their relationship, it didn't feel inappropriate to show some affection. She reached for his hand and gently clasped hers around it while they watched Stevens and Brenda take their seats opposite the suspect and his lawyer on the monitor. Flynn's face was still tense, but at least his eyes weren't shooting daggers anymore. She was sure that they would have a long and possibly heated argument at some point in the future but Flynn seemed willing to form a truce for the time being. She pulled her hand back and adjusted her glasses when his hand came up and was soon resting comfortably between her shoulder blades. She leaned into the touch and closed her eyes for the shortest of moments, hoping for Brenda to succeed more than she ever had before.

* * *

The gravel crunched under Rusty's expensive new leather shoes. He felt weird dressed like that in the company of his mother. She was from an alternate reality, it seemed, from a life he might have once led or might have only read about. Their time together had become distant in a way as he was someone else with Sharon Raydor. An A-student going to a Catholic school. A kid that got his lunch made every day and had to be in bed by eleven. A boy that tagged along to baseball games with his foster mother's boyfriend and his best friend. Someone who was respected. Someone who felt loved.

Life with Sharon Beck and her on-and-off-boyfriends had been hard, but little had he known back then that it would become much worse once she got attached to Rick. Rick was a burly man who had once been muscular but was now beginning to soften around the middle. He had a shock of wiry black hair, almost always blood-shot eyes of a muddy color and constantly reddened cheeks. Rick, Rusty had soon learned, was always either angry or drunk or both. His sense of style was limited to sweatpants and jeans on better days, his crumpled white t-shirts always adorned with food stains. Rick could never keep a job for long and sometimes he spent entire weeks at home, watching TV, drinking and eating take-out. Somehow he had complete control over Rusty's mother. Rusty didn't understand why. He wasn't attractive or charming, he wasn't rich or even capable of taking care of anyone financially. He wasn't anything his mother had ever been looking for in a man. And yet she seemed to love him more than anything. Certainly more than Rusty, he had soon learned.

Sharon Beck had never been the most caring of mothers. Although she had never abused Rusty physically, her drug habit and occasional alcohol problem made her neglectful of her child's needs. Rusty had learned at an early age how to take care of himself. He knew how to shop, how to cook and how to clean up if the mess became unbearable. He knew how to be quiet and stay in the background not to anger her boyfriends.

Oftentimes he was still astounded by how Sharon Raydor enforced his curfew. She was meticulous about times and sometimes he was downright annoyed when he was five minutes late and instantly received a text or phone call. It was a huge change from life on the streets and life with his mother, but deep down he knew that his freedom was being restricted to protect him and it felt good to know that there was someone who cared about him enough to keep track of where he was at all times. He wondered whether that would change with the arrival of the new baby. Maybe looking after an infant would take too much of Sharon's time and attention to bother with him anymore. And why would Andy hang out with him if he could spend his time cooing over an innocent little being that didn't vent or throw occasional tantrums or challenged Sharon's rules. That child would grow up more loved than he could ever be, it occurred to him. It would have everything he never had. Stupid little birthday parties, piano lessons, family holidays, siblings, a grandmother. At the same time it wouldn't know about financial woes or the need to find a place to stay the night. It wouldn't have to helplessly watch its mother being pushed around by one boyfriend or another or passed out from too much booze. It wouldn't have to move town and change schools constantly. It would most probably not be abandoned at a zoo. And at the same time it would take what little Rusty had from him by simply _existing_.

The rage he had been feeling earlier had turned into a feeling of complete devastation. He clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from crying. Sharon had lied to him. She hadn't only kept secrets, she had _lied_. Lying to him was the one thing she had promised him she would never do. Suddenly her keeping the fact from him that his mother was in town made a lot of sense, too. If she got her treatment for her addiction, it would help her get rid of Rusty by sending her back to live with Sharon Beck. Dread rose inside him at the mere thought. All that time they had been separated for, he had missed his mother, had wished for her to come back and get him. Now he realized that while he still loved her, he wanted to stay where he was. Safe. Comfortable. Without any more responsibilities than any other teenager had.

Sharon Beck reached for his cheek and caressed it lightly. "Sharon's gonna have her hands full with that baby soon, but it doesn't matter anymore, Rusty. You'll come with me and we'll start over." She gave him a wide smile that exposed her faulty teeth.

"Really?" Rusty crossed his arms defensively. "And how will we support ourselves?"

"Sweetie," she said happily. "I have it all figured out!"

He was taller than her now which he hadn't been when he'd last seen her. Somehow the physical aspect of his towering over her drove home the fact that he was also superior to her in many other ways. His mother, Rusty had to acknowledge, was utterly delusional. Her behavior and way of thinking were those of a young girl, an unruly teenager who felt entitled and who didn't understand that one had to work in order to achieve things. The sudden realization made him feel faint. At sixteen, he didn't want to feel superior to his own mother.

"Really? And what are we going to do?" She did not pick up on the tone in his voice at all, he noticed. Beaming, she clapped her hands without ever noticing the fact that his words had been sarcastic. Suddenly he understood why she was acting like that. Once again, his mother was high as a kite.

"Your foster mother is filthy rich, Rusty. We'll make it look like you've been kidnapped and we'll have enough money to live happily ever after!" She almost sung the last three words and Rusty began to feel sick. She didn't seem to acknowledge his appalled expression and clasped her hand around his shoulder. "I know I was a bad mother, Rusty, but I'll make up for it. We'll have a big house and car, maybe even a pool. And a dog! I bet you would love a dog, wouldn't you?"

Rusty shook his head. "Mom, you're on drugs," he said weakly, disappointment seeping through him like poison. Inside him, the part of him that wanted to hold his mother tight and never let go was fighting the one that wanted him to turn on his heel and walk back into the hotel. If his mother was in a state like this, Sharon couldn't send him back to her. He loved his mother as the one person who had always been in his life, but he also detested what had become of her. "What you're planning is illegal. It's a crime. You could go to jail for it."

She didn't seem to hear him and took his arm, chuckling at the notion of what she would do with the ransom money she wanted to extort from Sharon Raydor. He stopped walking and shook off her arm.

"Mom, that is crazy. I'll go in now and I will call a cab for you so you can go back to the treatment facility you came from. Try and get off the drugs and we will work it all out."

Her face changed, her eyes narrowing and the corners of her mouth dropping. "Why don't you want to come with me? I am your mother!" She looked as if she was one moment from stomping her foot on the ground. "Did she bedazzle you? That woman? Sharon Raydor with her shiny suits and expensive apartment? Catholic school and chess club my ass, Rusty. You don't belong there. You belong with me!"

Rusty shook his head and began to walk off but she closed her hand around his arm in a surprisingly firm grip to hold him back. "She didn't want me to see you, you know? She wanted you to herself. Wanted you to play the part of the big brother in her picture perfect little family. Wanted me to waste away inside that stupid rehab thing to have you all to herself!"

The outburst, as vicious as it had been, gave Rusty a little hope. It sounded way more genuine than her sugary affirmations that Sharon wanted rid of Rusty now that she was pregnant. What if his mother had been using it as a ploy to get him to go with her? What if Sharon hadn't told him all these things because she didn't want to upset him in the state he was in because of everything that was happening in his life? He had been so blind, he thought. When had Sharon ever given him any reason to distrust her?

"You know what, mom? I will not participate in your stupid flawed little plan. I'll go back to the party now. I bet Sharon is already wondering where I have disappeared to. She gets that I am not some toy that you can leave unattended and then take back whenever you want to just because it is your property. I want you to become sober. I want you to be in my life. But not like this! Not anymore!"

He turned to leave but found himself faced with a short yet broad-shouldered man who gave him a predatory grin. "Hi Rusty," Rick said and everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9

**9**

Brenda liked to circle her suspects if she could. She liked to watch them react, to see their faces from every angle, to make them crane their necks and arch their backs, trying to keep her in sight. The human body was essentially not so different from that of an animal as even after thousands of years of civilization, instincts still lay dormant, ready to be awakened by someone like her. Someone who silently crept around them like a predator on the prowl, someone who was constantly threatening to slip out of sight, someone one had to keep in plain view in order to anticipate the attack that seemed bound to occur at any given moment. The funny thing about human beings was, Brenda had learned, that few of them were aware of their instincts and that almost all of them could be played perfectly. Every mind was different. Every thought process unique and it was her job to quickly adapt to her suspect's way of thinking, to the order their minds chose to go about certain tasks. It was all about traces, characteristics, habits and ultimately, emotions. Making someone confess to a crime, Brenda had come to realize, wasn't that different from profiling. As soon as you had learned that lesson, very little could stop you.

Karkaroff had a hard face and an air of self-confidence that would have been discouraging to anyone else but Brenda was exhilarated. She had always liked a challenge, an opportunity to use all her techniques to break the suspect's mind open and drag all their ugly secrets into the open. Every one was different and although there were types of people and types of personalities, each was unique. You had to find a pattern, match your suspect to a particular type of person and then refine from there. Some were playing roles. Were trying to look tough or vulnerable or stupid although they were everything but. Brenda saw through them all.

Asking the right questions was key and yet she could not ask too many because then she would give herself away. She, too, was playing a role. Tough investigator or sweet Southern Belle. Stern police woman or flirty blonde. Bored cop or excited rookie, she had them all down to an art. And she refined them as soon as she learned about her suspects, let her voice sound warmer when she sensed that they wanted encouragement, made it sound harsher when she knew that they were underestimating her, used a touch, a look, a gesture to be something or someone they did or didn't expect. It was a game that she played by instinct alone. Overthinking never brought the desired results. She had to go with it and play it as it happened.

Karkaroffs lawyer didn't look happy. After overstaying his welcome on the break he had requested to consult with his client earlier, he knew that he could not request another one any time soon. He knew that Brenda posed a threat to their carefully constructed story because she knew how to get under people's skins. Karkaroff, however, had no idea. She smiled sweetly when she came in and set her plastic cup of coffee down a little too heavily, spilling some of it onto the interview table.

"Oh, no. Stupid me!" she exclaimed, seemingly helplessly turning towards Stevens who gave her the apprehensive look she had told him to use and handed her a paper towel so she could clean up. "Oh, sorry. Sorry." She extended her hand towards the suspect then pulled it back as if it had just occurred to her that cops usually didn't greet suspects with handshakes. "I'm Brenda Leigh Johnson." She consciously overplayed her accent and found an interested smirk forming in the corners of the suspect's lips.

Control freak, she thought. Ice cold. Presumes to be in control until proven otherwise. Her flowery skirts, long golden locks and wide smile worked wonders on those types, made them feel safe and superior. She set her huge black leather purse down with some feigned difficulty and consulted the note pad in front of her as if she wasn't entirely sure what she was doing.

"So, are you from around town?" she asked with a disarming smile. "You have such an interesting accent."

* * *

Watching Andy Flynn with Sharon Raydor was and would always be hard on Provenza. Not because he didn't like her or because he thought they weren't right for each other but because the opposite was true. He and Flynn had spent so many years effectively being each others' significant other that it was hard to accept that there was someone in his life again whom Provenza could neither hate nor explain away as just a fling. Sometimes he thought that part of his instant aversion against Sharon Raydor had been Flynn's immediate attraction to her. Even now that Andy was still making it very clear that he was angry with Raydor for volunteering as bait at the ransom drop off, the way their bodies were angled at each other clearly showed their mutual affection that ran much deeper than his momentary irritation. He allowed his eyes to stray from the screen where Brenda was in the process of introducing herself to the suspect to look at Sharon. She looked worried and tired and he knew from the few words he had been able to exchange with Flynn earlier that she had hardly slept since Rusty had been taken and he was pretty sure that her pregnancy was high risk due to her age. He could tell that she would probably not hold up much longer. Despite his conflicted emotions about her and Andy's relationship and the particular turn it was taking, he didn't want her to suffer so he took his own unopened bottle of water and set it down in front of her wordlessly. Sharon looked up at him and gave him a grateful smile.

While Brenda began her interview with some sugary questions that made it look as if she was a little naïve, Sharon made an attempt to unscrew the bottle's cap but failed as her hands had begun to tremble visibly. Normally, her hands would never shake, Provenza thought. She had the steadiest aim he'd ever seen in an FID-officer, not to mention the infamous beanbag gun incident. She let go of the bottle for a moment and pressed her hands against the table's surface where they resumed their trembling. She gave a frustrated little hum and then crossed her arms to hide what was likely her body's reaction to sleep-deprivation. Provenza was reminded of his wife Liz's first pregnancy back what seemed like a thousand years ago. She'd been dehydrated and exhausted after what had been a stressful period at work with her father suffering a car accident that had left him badly wounded. She had been as exhausted as Raydor was now just before she'd lost the baby and Provenza still remembered how very painful it had been to realize that the little life was lost. He didn't want that to happen to Sharon and Andy, didn't want them to be forced to endure the same sort of pain. Raydor ran her hand across her forehead, blinking several times. He knew that she didn't want anyone to see her distress but it was clear to him. He walked towards her and placed his hand on the back of her chair which was probably the closest gesture he'd ever produce to touching her shoulder.

"Captain," he said softly and she turned her head towards him, her eyes dull and slightly blood-shot.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Her attempt at professionalism was convincing enough, but he could also see that she was actually too tired to playact much longer. While everyone else was still staring at the screens in front of them, Flynn now turned his head towards them, too.

"I think you should let Andy drive you home," Provenza said carefully, aware of the fact that it was a fine line between expressing his concern for her and angering her because she was feeling patronized. "You need some rest."

She narrowed her eyes in her typical stern stare, looking at him over the rims of her glasses. "While I appreciate your concern, Lieutenant, I don't think it is your place to tell me what I need," she replied coolly. He pointed at her still shaking hand that she was trying to keep still by means of her other one that was just as restless.

"You've overdone it, Captain, and you know it. You've done everything you could do. Now let us take over." She opened her mouth to cut him off but he raised his hand in warning. "A very important part of good leadership is knowing when to step back and I assure you, this is the time."

He was sorry to see the moistness in Sharon's eyes but he knew that he was right and so he continued nonetheless. "I might have asked you to go home at some point anyway, but now that we have been made aware of your... condition, I'll drive you home personally if I have to." The familiar growl made Sharon smile for the slightest of moments before her expression faltered again.

"I know where you are coming from, Lieutenant," she told him softly. "but I can't leave here now that we are so close to finding Rusty. What if Chief- what if Brenda gets Rusty's whereabouts out of him? Do you want me to put my feet up and sip hot chocolate while everyone else is out there risking their lives trying to get him back?" She gave him a sardonic smile. "I won't let my division down at such an important moment. Or Rusty, for that matter."

"Captain," her eyes flitted towards Tao who had stepped a little closer to her. "Provenza is right for once. Trust us."

Raydor gave Andy a doubtful glance but he still wasn't looking at her. It was clear to Provenza that he was leaving the decision to the Captain entirely to give her the opportunity to redeem herself. If she stepped back now and took her team's advice in order to take care of her baby, he'd forgive her everything else, too.

"Captain," Sykes said softly and it only fully registered with Provenza now that she had been watching intently. "We don't want those kidnappers to take two children from you at the same time." He could tell from Raydor's expression that the young officer's heartfelt yet slightly pathetic statement was a little too much for the usually composed Captain. Raydor rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her hair in exasperation.

"This is exactly why I wanted to keep it a secret," she said. "I can't have you all worry about me all the time. I am not the focus here. Rusty is. Sharon Beck is."

Provenza put it down to her difficult situation that she didn't realize that her team had just proved to her that she was truly respected and cared for in her division. All she needed to do was toss them a bone and show her own affection for them. She would have normally done just that, Provenza thought, as she knew very well that a squad could be like a bunch of kids that needed their superior's approval. Today, however, her concern for Rusty overrode everything else.

"I appreciate your concern, but you must understand that I cannot let Rusty down." She turned from the others back towards the screen, thereby making it very clear that the conversation was over. Provenza could see his own frustration mirrored in the others' faces when they caught sight of Flynn's stony expression and her hand that had once again come up to her forehead.

* * *

Sharon had always been amazed at what Brenda Leigh Johnson could do to people and to herself. With the bat of an eyelash she became a slightly unsure, certainly somewhat naïve woman who didn't pose a threat and Karkaroff's body language showed that he was falling for it. Sharon herself had always done fairly well in interviews, but she was not even close to Brenda's level of skill and watching her filled her with deep admiration. Karkaroff was repeating his earlier cover story but she could tell that he was beginning to get sloppy, to insert too many details that might come back to haunt him. Brenda meticulously scribbled down every detail but Sharon could tell from the way she was holding the pencil and from the occasional gleam in her eye that it was all part of her act. Knowing that Brenda was there to extract information as to Rusty's whereabouts from the suspect helped ease the tension in her stomach. Maybe she would succeed sooner rather than later and she would be able to have Rusty in her arms in a matter of hours. The longing to have her foster son back hurt her almost physically and she turned slightly to hide her distress from the others. She was touched by their concern but she just couldn't bear the thought of letting Rusty down. And the baby was fine. She had a sonogram picture to prove it.

The door was opened and her heart sank when she recognized Chief Taylor's face. She could tell from his expression that he had already heard the news, probably courtesy of Commander Stevens, and that he was not happy. "Captain Raydor. My office. Now," he barked and she stood, following him out without looking back at the others. She didn't want to leave the monitor, wanted to be ready to grab her car keys and run to the garage in order to drive to Rusty, but she knew that she needed to try and stall Taylor or to at least explain the situation to him. And then there was nothing to explain, nothing that would change what happened. She had broken the rules and everyone knew. Sharon felt sick at the thought that she had completely lost control over what was happening to her and Andy's careers or their lives for that matter.

Inside his office, Taylor slammed the door shut and marched towards the conference table where he sat down, trembling hand pressed flatly on the table's surface in front of him. His eyes were narrowed, his nostrils slightly flared. He was livid. Without being offered a seat, Sharon sat down opposite him and looked him straight in the eye.

"Commander, what can I do for you?" she asked quietly but firmly, bracing herself for the storm that would be Taylor's rage. He didn't particularly like her, she thought. While he wasn't like Stevens, lacked any sort of emotional response to her, he kept criticizing her work, her choices, her efforts to lead her team. He didn't dislike her, he was just obsessed with restructuring and changing what was there to optimize old structures in order to make himself and his leadership look good. What he didn't get was what Sharon had soon learned upon working with Major Crimes: Police work was not just about rules, even though they were important. It was also about passion and personal commitment, which was a concept that Taylor would never fully be able to grasp.

"I put you in charge of Major Crimes so you could keep them under control, Captain. I wanted you to restore order to a chaotic division and what have you done?"

She raised her chin, unwilling to allow him to trample all over her. "I did just that. We have a great percentage of solved cases, we make many deals, everything is done by the book at all times."

He slammed his hand onto the table, making her jump. "You know exactly what I mean!" Despite the rather violent gesture, his voice was still low and dangerous. "What do you think this looks like? I choose a new head for our most prestigious division and she lets herself be knocked-up by a subordinate? What were you thinking? And at your age?"

"I'm-" she began, but he cut her off harshly.

"I chose you because you do things by the book. You're reliable. You're calm, you don't allow yourself to be led by your emotions. Or so I thought! God knows others applied for that job. Jenkins, Stevens! I wish I had chosen Stevens over you."

Of course. Why had she thought of it earlier? That was why Stevens hated her so much, why he so desperately wanted to bring her indiscretions to light. He wanted her job. He had always wanted it and he was stung that their bosses had chosen the unpopular bitch from FID over him - a well-respected and gifted cop.

"You didn't, though. I am doing my job well and I will continue to do my job well," she said stoically, the sleepless nights beginning to catch up with her despite the adrenaline that was pulsing through her veins. She was beginning to feel light-headed but she wasn't about to let Taylor know that.

"I doubt that, Captain." Taylor had calmed down to a point where his dark eyes were just glittering ominously and his hands were folded in a gesture that conveyed the fact that all possible decisions had already been made. Sharon suddenly realized that she was very likely about to lose her job. Maybe she would have to go back to FID, maybe they'd suggest early retirement or even worse, she'd receive a dishonorable discharge. She swallowed. She had grown to like her team and she didn't want to let them down, didn't want to lose her position. But what could she do? How could she explain this away?

"Here is what happens," Taylor said sharply. "You take early maternity leave and then early retirement. Lieutenant Flynn will receive a desk job." He placed his hand over his eyes and shook his head. "Do you have any idea how this makes me look?"

Sharon didn't care much about how it made him look. Flynn stuck behind a desk would most likely be the death of him, she thought grimly and somehow felt as if everything was her fault. She was his superior officer and instead of enforcing their boundaries and upholding the rules, she had allowed him into her life, into her bed and they had ended up making a huge, horrible mess out of everything. It all came down to the fact that their relationship was a mistake and their baby was, too. She felt like crying but she didn't. Fractures of possible arguments were swirling by inside her head but she was unable to grasp them and form a coherent sentence to try and somehow make this go away. Her voice sounded small when she finally spoke: "Chief Taylor, I regret what happened and I accept it as my sole responsibility. I am Lieutenant Flynn's superior officer and while I realize that he will probably face a formal reprimand, I suggest he stays in the Major Crimes unit. With me gone, there is no conflict of interest."

She could see in Taylor's eyes that he would not let that stand. "Don't you see, Captain Raydor? This is a personal embarrassment to my command. If one party can just vanish into motherhood and the other stays on as if nothing ever happened, nobody will care to follow the rules anymore. The sole point of punishment is the fact that it hurts."

There was a knock at the door and it was opened before Taylor had even answered, revealing Barbara in her black suit, carrying an unruly stack papers in her left arm, her right hand swiftly closing the door behind her. Despite the fact that the morning sun had long since risen in front of the windows, she looked alert and somewhat rested with a pleasant smile gracing her features.

"Well, good morning, Commander Taylor. I guess you heard the news," she said airily, pulling out a chair next to Sharon.

"Who are you?" Taylor barked incredulously.

"Barbara Cleary. I am Captain Raydor's lawyer." Barbara smiled. "And I have to admit I am a little miffed that no one bothered to inform me of this meeting. Anyhow, I heard you yelling about punishment through the door." She smiled again, spreading her papers out in front of her, revealing photocopies with whole paragraphs of text highlighted. Whatever the topic, she seemed to have done her homework. Sharon looked at Taylor's face that had assumed a sickly color which was rapidly heading towards white-hot rage. Barbara ignored his obvious animosities and shrugged. "There is this funny thing we learned in law school. Nulla poena sine lege. It's Latin and it means that there cannot be punishment without a law."

Taylor shook his head. "Miss Clearly, you must be aware of the fact that there is definitely a law that was broken here. We're not in a court of law, you cannot twist the written word. Officers may not engage in improper conduct, such as fraternization with their subordinates. It's that easy."

Barbara nodded with a closed mouth smile that looked almost kind. "Oh, true. But there is also something else that I learned in law school." She arranged her papers with an elegant gesture. "Sometimes knowing the words of the law is not enough. Actually, that is almost always the case. Look at this."

She slid one of the sheets of paper over the table and pointed at a highlighted passage. "Fraternization is a disciplinary offense that is only punishable if a formal investigation is opened. And to do that, a report has to be filed."

"That's just a formality!" Taylor thundered, apparently short-tempered.

"Oh, I don't know. You see, my area of expertise is family law, not... ah, here it is." She picked another of the photocopies and held it out to him. "A report can only be filed if certain requirements are met. A court once decided that to protect the officers, you know, from defamation or malicious gossip. So there has to be a complaint either from the officer's in question's squad or from their superior officer."

"That would be me," Taylor said smugly.

"Ah. Okay. Nice we got that out of the way," Barbara said and showed him yet another document. "You can only file a complaint if Captain Raydor has showed favoritism or if any other circumstances have arisen that suggest that she engages in improper conduct in the workplace."

Taylor gestured towards Sharon's middle. "Is there better proof than a child conceived, Miss Cleary?"

Barbara looked up and nodded as if in defeat. "Yeah, true. But then there is the small matter of these bylaws. A complaint against a pregnant police officer can be considered improper in itself if so far there have been no signs of favoritism or other disturbances in the working relationship of hers and the child's father. The case I am citing here-" She reached over the table and handed it to Taylor. "-had the roles reversed. The man was the superior officer and the woman worked under him. 1986, good old days. Now, look!" She pretended to be surprised and cumbersomely took her reading glasses out of her blouse pocket to read. "That is interesting." She flashed Taylor a serene smile. "The superior officer in question was one Russell Taylor and the young Detective went on to become his wife. Sweet story." She slid the sheet of paper back towards her with a start and handed it to Sharon.

"So I'd like to conclude my little lesson with this: It would be kind of hard to explain why you of all people would file a complaint against Captain Raydor in this particular situation without any indication that favoritism or any other disturbances are occurring in the Major Crimes division. Otherwise someone might call it-" She paused. "Harassment, maybe. You were lucky, Sharon." She smiled at her friend. "If that Taylor person hadn't fought his superiors tooth and nails to keep his wife in his division, the rules would be different today. But it's always nice to find a good little precedent, isn't it?"

Taylor looked too baffled to even express anger.

"You might have gotten off this time, Captain Raydor, but the minute I find you overstepping your boundaries, you're rid of your job."

He just waved the women away, eager to get them out of his sight. Sharon rose and followed Barbara into the hallway. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Barbara's face broke into a triumphant grin. Sharon pulled her friend into a firm hug and held on to her for a moment for reassurance that she wasn't dreaming.

"How on earth...?" she began, shaking her head in disbelief.

Barbara shrugged. "As I said in there, it's not my area of expertise but I figured you might need some legal advice sooner or later, so I had some research done. They have a really nice library here. Sent one of my clerks over, bright mind, really, and he happened to stumble upon this case. Taylor is the biggest hypocrite who has ever walked the earth. Just be careful not to show any favoritism or you might be out on your ass anyway."

Sharon chuckled. "This is one of these days when I wish I had become a lawyer."

"You would have made a great one, Sharry."

Sharon took a deep breath when another wave of dizziness overcame her. She held on to Barbara's arm for balance and took one step towards her, her head swimming. Taylor's threats had come as a huge shock although she should have expected something like it and the subsequent relief had sent her emotions on a steep roller coaster. She gave a shocked moan when she felt her legs give way beneath her and a dull pain began to radiate through her lower belly.

"Sharon, what's wrong?" Barbara asked in alarm and held on to her friend's arm and shoulder, gently maneuvering her towards the nearest chair. Sharon doubled over slightly, hoping that it would still the pain and clear her head. For a moment she feared that she might be sick, but then the nausea passed and left her light-headed and exhausted. She began to rub her stomach in small circles to help with the pain and looked up at Barbara.

"It's alright. There's some pain but it's endurable." She tried a reassuring smile to wipe the concerned expression off her friend's face but found herself unable to produce anything but a pained smirk that did nothing to calm Barbara.

"Sharon, you look horrible. Are you sure you are not losing your baby?"

"I don't know," she finally admitted, suddenly slightly choked-up. "I need Andy. Please."

"I'll get him for you."

The sharp staccato of Barbara's heels echoed through the corridor when she ran off towards the monitor room and Sharon rubbed her abdomen tenderly, praying that her child was not in danger. The pain remained dull and now that she was no longer standing, it was slowly abating, but she knew that she could no longer get away with staying at the office. Her team was right. She needed to be off her feet as soon as possible if she didn't want to put the baby's life in danger. Her doctor's lectures had been long and filled with countless possible scenarios that could leave her suffering a miscarriage and she knew that this was one of them. She felt tears welling up at the thought of having to decide whether she wanted to go home and rest for her baby's sake or whether to stay here and be able to take care of Rusty as soon as he was found. She felt ashamed for briefly thinking that everything between her and Andy had been a mistake when he came jogging towards her a moment later and knelt in front of her.

"Barbara said you were in pain?" he asked breathlessly, his hand closing around hers. "Do you want me to drive you to the E.R.?"

She followed the sudden urge to reach out her arms and pull him into her to bury her head on his shoulder despite the fact that they were far too close to Taylor's office for comfort. "Honey, I'm fine," she whispered into his shoulder. "I think Provenza is right, though. I need to go home and lay down." He gently massaged the back of her head and she felt more relaxed immediately, enveloped in his arms and his comfortingly familiar scent.

"I'll drive you home," he told her, still not letting go. "Provenza will send updates via text and he'll call if there's a breakthrough. You can count on them."

She gently pulled back and nodded. "Okay. Give me your phone."

He shook his head slightly at her resolve and handed her his iphone which she firmly wrapped her fingers around. "The second they know where Rusty is, I want a call. Did you make that clear to them?"

Flynn smiled. "It wasn't necessary. Provenza offered to do it himself and Barbara saved my number so she can call you, too, if things should get hectic for the others. Everything is taken care of."

"Good." She allowed him to help her to her feet and Andy wrapped both of his arms around her waist to be able to hold her steady for another moment. His rage had evaporated completely the moment Barbara had stormed in to tell him that Sharon needed him. The way she was still clutching her stomach protectively reminded him of how much she loved their child and made him see how difficult it must have been for her to make the decision to go and personally face the kidnappers. He brushed a strand of hair from her face and kissed her softly on the lips before he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked her to the elevator. Inside, they stood next to each other, watching the numbers above the door change slowly. Just before they arrived at the parking garage, Andy leaned into her. "I promise I won't allow anything to happen to our little girl. Also, I hope she has your looks and my common sense."

"Thank you," she whispered. "For not hating me."

"I never said I didn't," he told her with one of his boyish grins. "but as much as I disagree with some of the things you do, I would never let you down when you need me. I love you, after all."

She clasped her hand around his and squeezed it. "Taylor gave me hell for getting involved with you, but you know what? Breaking the rules like that was the best mistake I ever made."

"Barbara said not to worry because she took care of Taylor."

Sharon chuckled. "Well, she sure did. You owe her a bottle of that unbelievably expensive champagne she likes for saving you from becoming stuck behind a desk."

"I'd be okay with that as long as you were on that desk."

"If not for Barbara, I would have had a lot of spare time to visit you at work," Sharon said.

"Would you have brought muffins in a cute little basket?"

Sharon snorted. "I don't bake. And I don't like cute little baskets."

"Then lunch?"

"You would have been the one gainfully employed, so it would have been your job to feed me."

Flynn grimaced and opened the car door for Sharon. "Then I'll gladly buy that champagne for Barbara." Once he had climbed into the car himself, he leaned over the console and kissed her just like he had when he had kissed her for the very first time in this very car. It seemed longer ago than just seven short months. Rusty had been fine then, happily settling in with Sharon and meddling with her love life at the same time. Now if they found him, he had a long recovery ahead of him. Flynn hadn't been a very good father to his own children, but he was hell-bent on doing anything in his power to help Rusty get back onto his feet. Somehow, he realized, he had begun to consider the boy part of his own family.

* * *

Rusty could tell that Rick was getting nervous. He could not see him from his awkward position on the floor, but he could hear him pacing and dialing a number on his phone over and over again. Rick was muttering and cursing under his breath about being betrayed and Rusty was sure that the man with the strange accent was the one he was referring to. His throat felt dry as sandpaper and the dull ache in his bone had given way to a frightening numbness. He wasn't sure how many days had passed since Rick and Rusty's mother had ambushed him at Amy Sykes' wedding reception. He had no idea where his mother had vanished to and why she allowed Rick to do this to him. There had been talk about ransom and a drop-off, but nothing had come off it. Rusty knew he was too young to know the feeling of life slowly slipping from his body, but that was what it felt like.

"For fuck's sake!" Rick swore and Rusty felt a square object hitting him in the forehead. The phone? "He blew it. That bastard blew it!"

Rusty's whole body screamed out in pain when he was dragged to his feet, once again the outlet for Rick's rage. The first blow to his face hurt, the second caused his vision to double, the third knocked him unconscious.


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

Although Karkaroff had clearly noticed his attorney's discomfort, he didn't seem to be able to discern what had caused it. Brenda could tell from the irritated sidewards glances that he was fed up with his lawyer's annoying nervousness and she felt gleeful with the realization that she had broken through their united front. Slowly, she began to insert more direct and useful questions into her line of questioning and he answered them as loftily as he did all the others. He had no clue, Brenda thought and gave the fidgeting Gideon Craig her best saccharine smile. Time to speed things up a little.

"So you said you'd been asked to pick up money for someone whose name you do not know. How did you communicate with that person?" she asked.

Karkaroff smiled at what he clearly thought was another easy little question by the pretty blonde sitting across from him. "He gave me a cell phone number to call."

"Oh." Brenda feigned confusion. "When did he give it to you if you never met before?"

Karkaroff was not yet aware of the looming danger and gave her a self-assured grin. "Sorry. Must be my English. I mean I got the number from the guy who set us up with each other."

"And who was that guy?" Brenda asked.

"Someone from a bar I go to. Goes by the name of Carl," Karkaroff replied evenly. He was good, she had to give him that. So far he had barely contradicted himself.

"Didn't that seem shady to you, sir?" Brenda tried the doe-eyed girl and found a smirk on Karkaroff's face. He liked lecturing her and proving her wrong. Maybe it was time to use that to her advantage.

"Shady? No. It was just someone asking for help. You know, there are lots of perfectly legal transactions going on that require some privacy."

"Hmm," Brenda pretended to consult her notes and smiled awkwardly. "Sorry. I am not good at remembering all the details." Stevens, always ready to play along, gave an annoyed grunt at her comment and she pretended to be slightly intimidated by it. She flipped through her notes and found the name she had written down after Tao had given her Sharon Beck's boyfriend's name via the earpiece she was wearing. "Ah, here it is. You said that the man's name was Dick."

"Rick," Karkaroff corrected her, followed by a vigilant look crossing his otherwise expressionless face. He opened his mouth to add something but fell silent when Brenda finally decided to drop the act.

"But wait. I must have misread my notes," she said sweetly and then added in a sharp tone that could have cut through glass: "You said he never said his name. Were you lying to me, Mr Karkaroff?"

Karkaroff seemed genuinely taken aback by her sudden change of attitude and looked to his attorney for help. Craig, however, seemed a little resigned and unable to come up with anything to get his client out of the ditch he'd maneuvered himself into. Brenda could see that she needed to use the element of surprise to her advantage. The more quickly she fired questions at him, the more likely he was to break. Once the smooth facade was cracked, she had to go in for the kill as quickly as possible.

"Mr Karkaroff, we have multiple witnesses that saw you pointing your gun at Captain Raydor whom you knew was unarmed. You'll never get out of that one. Juries aren't particularly well-disposed towards defendants who attempted murder on police officers."

"Let alone defendants who knew that their victim was pregnant," Stevens added, throwing Brenda off balance for the shortest of moments. Raydor was pregnant? What else had she missed? Provenza running for major seemed about as likely.

"With your track record, you'll end up behind bars for a very long time. Now, we could also charge you with obstruction of justice and if we don't find your friend Rick, you'll most definitely be the one who'll stand trial for Sharon Beck's murder as well. Things are looking bleak." She dragged out the last word by sharply pronouncing every single letter and slammed her hand onto the table, startling everyone else in the room. She raised her voice in an abrupt and brutal change from her silky tones.

"Tell me where Rusty Beck is or I swear I'll make sure you're going in for life."

Karkaroff looked taken-aback but she wasn't sure it was enough yet and got up from her seat, walking around him. Just as she had expected, the sudden loss of control had thrown him completely off balance and his eyes followed her every move, his legs suddenly restless.

"These are empty threads coming from someone who isn't even with the Major Crimes division anymore," Craig tried his luck.

"There are more than enough people watching us right now who are. People who are loyal to Captain Raydor who almost fell victim to your client," Brenda hissed. "Where is Rusty Beck?"

"I don't-"

"Screw you!" Brenda yelled and leaned over the table to invade his space. "You know exactly where Rusty is. You have seen him. You'll make this a lot easier on the both of us if you just tell me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Karkaroff had changed from smug to stoic, but she wasn't discouraged by it. There were many layers one had to cut through and he had just shed the first. It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Sharon had dozed off the moment they had left the parking garage. Her head was resting against the window, one hand in her lap still clutching the phone, the other on her stomach. Her breathing was deep and regular and her features completely relaxed. Andy liked to watch her sleep because it was when she let go of everything else, when she was truly herself and did not hide behind a mask or a sarcastic comment. The peaceful sight calmed him down as well and he could feel his own tense muscles relax while he drove them through the early morning traffic. Less people were leaving the city than going in, but traffic was still thick with commuters and they were moving slowly. He would have liked to call ahead so Sharon's children knew that they were coming but he didn't dare take the phone from Sharon for fear that she would bite his hand off if he attempted to.

He still felt a little overwhelmed by the most recent developments. Pacifying Provenza was no longer his first priority after Taylor had gotten wind of what was happening. Even though Barbara had somehow managed to avert the worst, he would be all over them, trying to find fault in their conduct and Andy was not looking forward to that. With a temper like his, close scrutiny could be very dangerous. In a matter of hours, their already complicated life had become even more intricate. Everyone being in the know about Sharon's pregnancy turned it from their sweet secret into a somewhat frightening reality. Only now it occurred to him that he would have to tell his own children about it sooner or later. They weren't around as often as Sharon's were, but they had a right to know. His ex-wife was bound to find out as well and, knowing her spiteful nature, he couldn't put it past her to contact Sharon and tell her what a lousy father Flynn had been when his kids had been little. Of course things had changed when he had given up the drinking, but he was still a sarcastic asshole most of the time, or so Provenza assured him in regular intervals. The prospect of being offered a second chance at a family caused him both happiness and the strong urge to run and never look back.

The ringing of his phone made both of them jump. Sharon was awake instantly and pressed the receiver button with shaking hands, putting it on speaker phone.

"Yes?"

"Captain, it's Provenza. Rusty is in a motel by the name of 'Sunshine Inn'. I'll text you the address and we'll meet you there as soon as we can."

Sharon let out a long breath and pressed her free hand to her chest in relief. Only a second later, Provenza's text arrived. She checked the address and turned around to look out of the back window.

"Andy! That's just around the block from here. In that traffic, even squad cars will take ages. Turn around!"

Andy did as he was told without further ado and only two minutes later, a run-down building came into view. Its dirty walls had once been yellow and the large sign announcing vacancies bore testament to the fact that everyone else found the place as shabby and uninviting as he did. He found a parking spot in front of the building and reached for his gun while Sharon did the same. He knew they were in a hurry. No one knew what Sharon Beck's boyfriend was doing to Rusty now that the ransom drop off had clearly gone wrong. As far as he knew, every second counted. And still he also had other things to think about.

"Sharon. No," he said firmly when she reached out to open the door. She froze and turned around, tears in her eyes.

"Rusty needs me," she said defensively.

"He needs someone who's armed and ready to get him out of there. That would be me. You're pregnant, Sharon, and you could hardly walk back at the station. You can't honestly believe that I would let you near a possibly armed, certainly violent man."

Sharon took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, pressing her lips together. Her eyes were swimming in tears, but she nodded. "Please be careful." She reached out to pull him in and kiss him. "I don't want you hurt."

"This is not my first time doing this," Flynn assured her. He squeezed her hand one last time and then ran towards the motel. The entrance hall looked even more depressing than the exterior of the building with a sagging sofa and moth-eaten curtains, the carpet's original color barely recognizable with all the stains it was covered in. A faded poster of a sunrise on the beach looked almost ironic behind the old-fashioned reception desk that was so riddled with cigarette burns that Flynn felt repulsed just by looking at it. The man behind the desk could have stepped right out of one of Rusty's favorite horror movies, he thought grimly as he took in the yellowish skin, faulty teeth and deep-set eyes.

"Which rooms are taken?" he barked, flashing his police badge and keeping the gun well in sight. A little intimidation worked best with these types.

"Only the one closest to the street with the separate door to the parking lot," the man stuttered and was soon left staring after Flynn who had already bolted into the indicated direction.

* * *

The first thing Rusty registered upon slowly returning to consciousness was the metallic taste of blood inside his mouth, the second was an excruciating pain when he tried to move. He couldn't even tell which body parts were injured as it felt as if his whole body was nothing more than a searing entity of pain. His left eye wouldn't open and he could tell from experience that it was most likely swollen shut. With the other one, he could see blood stains on the mud-colored carpet if his blurred vision could be trusted. He wanted to scream but no sound came out. He could see Rick's dirty boots next to him and it slowly registered inside his head, that his mother's ex-boyfriend - or boyfriend? - had to be sitting on the bed in front of which Rusty had passed out. The little hope he'd nursed that Sharon and her team would find him in time had slowly been dripping away over the painful, desperate hours he had spent in this dirty room, slipping in and out of consciousness. He wanted to die, he thought, wanted the pain to stop. He closed his eyes, pretending to be unconscious for fear of being beaten up again if Rick noticed otherwise. In his mind's eye, he saw Sharon, all nervous on her couch, asking whether he would like her to adopt him. He saw Flynn and Provenza, arms full of hot dogs and soft drinks, cheering on their favorite baseball team. They would be sad, but life would go on for them, would somehow be bearable while his suffering would finally stop. Sometimes Rusty thought that once your life was screwed-up to a certain point, there was no way it would ever get better. He had believed in the sweet illusion that he could be Sharon Raydor's son when the truth was that the past would always catch up with him. He would never be able to ban the darkness from his life when everyone that he had ever cared about always hurt him. There was a crash and his good eye flew open when Rick got to his feet, muttering a curse under his breath. He reached for the gun Rusty knew he was keeping under the pillow but had never been able to reach for because his wrists and ankles were bound with duct tape. He could hear the safety catch being released at the same time that Flynn's voice rang out with calm authority that already held the tiniest hint of a threat.

"Freeze. Put the gun down!"

Was he alone? Hadn't he brought any back-up?

"You freeze, asshole, or the kid is toast." He could feel Rick grabbing him by his now filthy shirt and dragging him to his feet. He couldn't stand by himself so he had no choice but to lean into Rick's body that gave off the scent of booze and sweat which made Rusty even more nauseous than he already was.

"My squad is about to arrive. You don't stand a chance," Flynn warned.

"Oh, really? I don't see anyone." Rusty felt the gun that was being pressed into his temple and his mouth ran dry. He knew Rick. He was mean but, ultimately, a coward. Beating up women and children was part of his repertoire, but he never angered people his own size. Rusty had never wanted to find out what he'd do when cornered but he knew that he was about to.

"Lower your weapon!" Flynn commanded again but Rick only responded by pushing his own gun harder against Rusty's aching temple. He felt sweat breaking out of every single pore of his body despite the fact that he was shivering cold.

"Back off, or I swear I'll shoot him!"

Rusty closed his eyes, feeling Rick move him against his soft belly, dragging him in front of him so Flynn couldn't get a clear shot. This was it, he thought when the sound of Rick's finger grazing the trigger echoed inside his eardrums, magnified by the overwhelming fear that was ruling his every thought. He did not dare move a muscle. He was as good as dead. Even if the squad arrived now. Especially then. A show of lights and noises from outside would most certainly prompt Rick to pull the trigger. Rusty nearly wished he would as he didn't think he could take the rushing adrenaline any longer. He heard another clicking of a gun, this one farther away, followed by a voice that was so cold that he almost didn't recognize it.

"Drop the gun or I swear I'll blow your brains out," Sharon Raydor ordered and added in a lower, even more dangerous voice: "You know I am not kidding."

Rusty knew that he was saved the moment the barrel's pressure on his temple lessened slightly. Rick wouldn't risk his own life. He was far too afraid of dying to go out this way. He heard Flynn's careful footsteps approaching them and then, finally, the clattering of Rick's gun on the floor. The moment his meaty arms let go of Rusty, he lost balance and his face painfully connected with the carpet once again. The clicking of handcuffs and Flynn's low voice Mirandizing Rick seemed to come from very far away but Sharon's soft, cooing words of comfort were closer although his brain was too fuzzy to make out what she was saying. He opened his eyes and saw her securing her gun and sliding it back into its holster before she reached out and began to work on the duct tape on his wrists.

"It's okay, honey," she whispered. "I'm here. It's over." She was on her knees next to him now and he could see tears glistening in her eyes when she cast the duct tape aside and pulled his aching head into her lap. "Andy! He needs an ambulance right away!" she yelled, then tenderly brushed his hair from his face.

Andy pushed the handcuffed kidnapper into Provenza's arms as soon as his partner burst through the door and headed for Sharon and Rusty at the other side of the room. Rusty was badly beaten, his face and arms bruised, his shirt collar soaked in blood and his left eye swollen shut. Once again, his lip was split and bloody and from the looks of him, he had just passed out. Sharon looked distraught in her kneeling position on the floor, cradling Rusty's head in her hands and lap. He lowered himself down to the floor next to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, resisting the urge to pull her into him in order not to disturb Rusty. The fresh scent of her hair was a welcome relief from the cold cigarette smoke and odor of stale sweat that hung inside the stuffy room and he inhaled it eagerly. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I just couldn't," she said quietly but he was far too relieved to be angry with her for ignoring his request to stay back and safe. What she had done had been courageous and it had worked, so he was ready to ignore the fact that it had also been terribly dangerous. She caressed Rusty's forehead gently and carefully stroked back the strands of hair that were stuck in the dried blood on the boy's forehead.

"I can't bear seeing him like this again," she choked. "Why can't that poor boy get a rest?"

"He's safe now, Sharon," Andy said soothingly. "He is with you."

They both looked up at the team of paramedics that came running through the door and Sharon reluctantly allowed them to take Rusty from her and get him ready to be put on a stretcher. Andy got to his feet and reached his hand out to help her up, but she wasn't looking at him, her eyes focused on the blood stains on the floor instead. He still noticed how tense her face looked.

"I'm sure you're allowed to ride in the ambulance with him," he told her. "Come on."

Her face was twisted in pain when she finally turned it towards him and Flynn's heart sank immediately when he saw that she was doubled over and clutching her stomach again.

"I can't," she whispered. "I'm sorry. It... hurts too much."

"Ma'am, are you alright?" One of the paramedics, a burly but gentle man, had noticed her distress and placed his heavy hand on her shoulder. Sharon was unresponsive as she had squeezed her eyes shut and had resorted to muffled whimpers, so Andy answered for her, hoping that it would not be too late.

"She's almost thirteen weeks pregnant. It's high risk."

The man nodded in understanding and signaled for a second stretcher to be brought over while Andy wrapped his arms protectively around Sharon who had begun to cry softly. "I'm so sorry. I'm losing our baby. I'm so sorry... It's all my fault," she murmured over and over again, sobs now rocking her body and her hand clawing into his shoulder. He held her more closely and cradled her head against his chest to still her.

"We'll get you to a hospital. Maybe everything will be alright," he tried to reassure her, but she didn't even seem to hear him. Once again, she was crushed by guilt despite the fact that she had Rusty back. Flynn could only hope that saving his life hadn't come at the loss of another.

* * *

Rusty woke to sunlight and a clean, antiseptic smell that differed so much from the nauseating malodor he had spent the previous days in, that he felt instantly pacified. He was in a safe place, he thought, a light and clean place with crisp white sheets and someone holding his hand. His neck ached when he turned his head to see who it was, but he could also tell that something was taking the edge off the pain. Maybe it was the liquid that was dripping into his arm from an IV-line. He felt a little taken-aback by the discovery that Andy Flynn was the one by his bedside, covering his hand with his. It should have felt awkward to have the man hold his hand, but Rusty found it rather comforting instead, paternal even - and in a good way that was completely different from the father figures he'd known before.

"I expect you're feeling like hell," Flynn said sympathetically, his usual sarcastic smirk notably absent. He looked tired and worn, Rusty noticed with a pang of guilt.

"I do," he croaked in an unfamiliar voice that sounded like a child's. He didn't like to feel or appear weak but he could not gather up the strength to speak up. He tried to remember the moment when he had passed out, but he couldn't pinpoint it. Sharon had been there, he thought, cradling his head and telling him that everything would be alright. Where was she now? Why wasn't she here to watch over him?

"Where's Sharon?" he added quietly, instantly ashamed at the hint of impending tears that his voice carried. He didn't want anyone to see him cry, not even Flynn, but his body didn't seem willing to obey him right now. A dark look crossed Flynn's face and made Rusty wonder whether Sharon's whereabouts were the reason for the air of sadness around him.

"She's right there," he said, the ghost of a smile appearing on his lips and when Rusty turned his head into the direction the older man was pointing, he realized that there was a weight on his shoulder and the sensation of strands of long, wavy hair tickling his cheek registered with him for the first time. His foster mother was in his bed, curled up into his side but careful not to put too much of her weight on him. From what he could see, her shoes and jacket were off and she was in her blouse and skirt, sleeping soundly. She was also covered by what looked suspiciously like Flynn's suit jacket.

"She's completely exhausted," Flynn explained. "You've been asleep for almost fifteen hours, Rusty. She was brought here along with you because she collapsed at the motel with abdominal pain." His voice trailed off for a second and a cold hand seemed to grip Rusty's heart. His mind on his own survival, he hadn't been thinking much about Sharon's baby while he had been with Rick, but he didn't want Sharon to suffer and he knew that she would if she had lost the baby. She was pale, Rusty noticed, but he couldn't tell from the rest of her appearance whether she was still pregnant or not. Somehow he didn't dare to ask the question, that was burning inside him.

"They say she needs a lot of rest," Andy explained. "She didn't want to leave you, though, and so I intimidated the nurse into letting her rest with you like this."

A warm feeling spread through Rusty when he regarded his foster mother who had somehow managed to make herself comfortable in the narrow hospital bed to stay with him. Uncertainty remained, however, as Flynn had said nothing about the baby's condition, hadn't even mentioned the pregnancy. Were they still keeping it from him? Or were they just trying not to burden him with the knowledge that Sharon had suffered a miscarriage?

"She wanted to be there when you woke up, but she's been sleeping for almost as long as you have. Which is probably for the better."

Rusty watched the sleeping woman a while longer before he finally gathered up the courage to ask. He didn't actually want to think about the realm of possibilities that a new baby opened, didn't want to dwell on all the fears his mother had ignited inside him by pointing out that Sharon and Andy certainly wouldn't want him around anymore. On the other hand, he was worried and he wanted to know.

"My mother told me that Sharon was... pregnant. Is that true?" He could tell that Flynn was trying to hide the pain that crossed his face, but Rusty caught it anyway, all of his senses still heightened by what he'd gone through lately.

"Yes, that's true," he said. "please don't think that we kept it from you to spite you. Sharon was worried about you being nervous about your finals, so we were planning on taking you out to dinner the night of the wedding to tell you."

His finals, Rusty thought, seemed so far away, so insignificant. He remembered how nervous he had been through the set of exams and how powerful the feeling of relief had been when he'd returned home after the last one to go to bed early and rise the next day to accompany Sharon and Andy to Amy Sykes' wedding. It seemed like a lifetime ago, as if he had never actually experienced those things. Why was his life a series of fragments that seemed completely independent of each other? Had he actually ever lived when his memories were always so foggy and unreal? He looked at Sharon who looked peaceful and vulnerable in her sleep which was at odds with how she had threatened Rick back at the motel. She had sounded so cold and dangerous and powerful.

"Did she lose the baby because of me?" he asked in a small voice, the weight of the responsibility for something terrible suddenly resting on his shoulders. If not for him and his history, none of that would have happened. The dread rising inside him was threatening to suffocate him and he suddenly felt more miserable even than when he had woken to the grueling sight of Rick's triumphant face.

"Rusty," Flynn said intently. "Sharon made her own choices when she went in there to save you, okay? You aren't responsible for any of this. And besides," A tired but relieved smirk appeared on his face. "She was in a lot of pain at first, but it was mostly the stress and exhaustion. The doctor said that they'll both be okay if she rests properly. And the only way I could get her to rest properly was to allow her in your room. You wouldn't believe the stubbornness of that woman."

"I am well-acquainted with it," Rusty replied with relief. "If she sets her mind to something, nothing can throw her off."

"Nothing," Flynn agreed. "I cut her some slack because she was out of her mind with worry, but now that you're back, I won't let her out of my sight. If she tries anything, I'll lock her up or worse, I'll make Provenza watch her." He grinned when Rusty laughed but the merry expression faltered immediately when he saw Rusty grimace with the pain that was radiating through his body.

"You have a broken rib," Flynn explained softly. "They want to keep you here for observation for a while, but then you can go home."

Home. Home sounded good and yet it was like a faraway place that didn't really exist. Had he once been looking forward to the summer holidays? Had he feared the trial he had to attend as a material witness? Had he wondered how it would be to visit Sharon's mother in Salt Lake City in July? The only feeling that remained from that time was uncertainty. How would things change now?

"When is the baby due?" he asked, turning his head towards Flynn who looked a little surprised at the sudden change of topic.

"Early January," he replied with a proud note in his voice that he found not to rest well with Rusty. He looked slightly sheepish before he assumed a neutral expression. January seemed far away to Rusty, but he could still feel his insides churn.

"That'll give Cynthia plenty of time to find another foster family for me," he said quietly, appearing resigned to his fate despite the fact that he hoped so much that Flynn would prove him wrong. Pretending to be okay with what might happen was a lot easier than asking whether he would be allowed to stay. If it turned out that he would have to leave, at least he wouldn't appear needy or dependent.

"Don't be an idiot, Rusty," Flynn snarled a little more harshly than Rusty had expected. "You're not going anywhere! That would break Sharon's heart." His loud voice had not only startled Rusty but also caused Sharon to stir next to him. She stretched one of her arms and blinked against the light then sat up slowly with a slightly disoriented little smile that lit up her face when she found that Rusty was awake. She turned and searched for her glasses on the nightstand, then slipped them onto her nose to be able to see her foster son more clearly.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him softly. "Do you need anything?" She gestured towards the door and started to say something else but Flynn cut her off with a rather primeval growl.

"You're not going anywhere!"

Sharon shot him a glare but stayed put on the bed and rubbed Rusty's shoulder affectionately. "Rusty, the reason that Andy's acting like that is that I'm-"

"It's okay. I know." Rusty had a hard time looking her in the eye. "Andy just told me that I can stay anyway."

A look of shock crossed Sharon's face. "Of course, you can! Rusty, I still want to adopt you."

Despite the relief that her heartfelt statement brought, he still didn't meet her eyes. "I thought you wanted to help my mother become clean to be able to get rid of me. She said so."

Silence fell across the room and the same haunted expression he had seen before returned to Flynn's eyes. When he turned his head towards Sharon, he found it mirrored on her face. She sat up slowly and had some difficulty balancing her body on the narrow bed now that she was now longer comfortably curled into Rusty's side. She slid her legs off the bed and sat down on its side instead, possibly to give him more room or to bring some distance between them. He could tell from the familiar expression on her face that she had bad news.


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

**A/N**: Swiftly moving on to the post-kidnapping part of this story. ;-) It isn't over by far. Thank you so much for your continuing support. You guys are great!

"Out with it, you goddamn asshole! What the hell were you thinking?" Flynn turned around from the vending machine, startled, only to find that his best friend and partner was the one shouting expletives at him across a hospital corridor. Retrieving his purchase, he straightened up, ripped the wrapping paper off the chocolate bar and took a large, provocative bite.

"I think it's safe to say I wasn't thinking much of anything when I threw caution to the wind and took her right where we were," he replied, fully aware of what Provenza was referring to. He was rewarded with exactly the look of disgust that he had been pining for. Provenza still looked slightly flushed and a bit disheveled sans his suit jacket and with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up. His trousers were crumpled and his tie undone and threatening to slip down off his neck. He, too, had spent the past 15 hours in the hospital, Andy realized, and felt both gratitude and a bit of emotion welling up at his partner's unwavering loyalty.

"Ugh, shut up about it already. I don't even want to imagine whose desk you did it on. Besides, I was already completely aware of the fact that you can't keep your pants on, but what the hell were you thinking NOT TELLING ME?"

Despite the fact that he hadn't initially been looking forward to having this conversation with Provenza, Andy was starting to enjoy it. It was pretty apparent that his partner had no idea what to make of the new developments and he was reacting with a mixture of anger and good humor.

"Sharon's high risk. She didn't want to tell anyone before her fourth month," he explained on a more serious note.

Provenza shook his head.

"What the hell happened, Flynn?" He sounded a little desperate for the first time. "Just a year ago we were just two old grumps, alone but not lonely, having beers or that stupid cranberry and soda swill you like in shady bars, chatting up girls half our age and now you're doing the family thing again! I mean, how old is that woman? Sixty?"

Flynn could tell from Provenza's slightly whiny tones that he was in dire need of venting a little, so he played along. "You know exactly how old she is. You went to great lengths to get access to her file to find out, after all." The memory finally coaxed a smile out of Provenza and he had to fold his arms to appear more grim.

"So I think it's safe to say you went from being in love to loving her?" he asked, sounding as if he was interrogating a particularly nasty suspect and Flynn shrugged in response, feigning relative disinterest for his partner's sake. He was sure Provenza's head would explode if he told him how much he really loved her, just because not talking about feelings was a pillar of their relationship. His reaction was enough for Provenza to switch from mistrust of Raydor to protectiveness.

"Then why on earth can't you make an honest woman out of her?" he growled.

"Unlike you, I don't marry every woman who ever looks twice at me," Flynn replied smugly, enjoying the banter tremendously.

"Oh, you knocked her up, you bastard! How about the catholic thing?"

Sharon always felt guilty for one thing or another, but her faith didn't seem to instill those feelings in her at all, which he found a little curious as she always pretended to be big on the Catholic Guilt thing.

"Her divorce isn't through. Her husband didn't sign the papers yet. Wants to talk about money first."

Provenza's face darkened. Whenever he decided to like someone, he became fiercely protective of them and Flynn had noticed that it was happening with Sharon now that he had given up trying to hate her. "The cheek of that bastard! Ever met him?"

"No," Flynn replied quickly. The elusive Charles was not a topic he liked to discuss. Despite the fact that some of his clothes still hung in Rusty's closet, Sharon seemed to have completely eradicated him from her life and, most importantly, the chest of drawers she kept her family photos on. Judging from that, she might as well never had a husband. But then again, the only more recent picture was one of Rusty, Sharon and Andy who, while visiting another haunted house, had had their picture taken with someone dressed as Samara from The Ring, all three of them laughing goofily.

"Is she okay in there?" Provenza asked almost tenderly. "Broke my heart when she was crying in your arms." He looked sad for just a moment then added: "I would have kicked your ass if you'd let her lose that baby."

Flynn thrust his hands into his pockets and stared at the opposite wall. He wasn't ready to take a joke on that topic just yet. Provenza seemed to get it and patted his shoulder awkwardly, causing Flynn to look back at his partner and shrug. "She seems better now that she got some sleep. It is Rusty I am worried about. He took the news of his mother's death so stoically that I am pretty sure he is either in shock or he's dealing with the situation in a very unhealthy way."

"Shutting himself off? That sounds like the Rusty I once knew," Provenza agreed. "Poor kid. No one should go through even half of what he is going through."

"Yeah, I though he'd probably open up a little if I wasn't there, you know? We get along pretty well but he's closer to Sharon."

"Momma Raydor's got it down to an art," Provenza grinned and his eyes narrowed at the sound of someone clearing their throat next to him. The two men turned and found Laura Raydor glaring up at Provenza with a stern look on her face, looking like her mother on a more dangerous day. She was wearing casual jeans and a t-shirt with her hair in a ponytail and she was carrying a bag in her left hand.

"Hi," Flynn greeted her. He had been in touch with Sharon's children from the moment he'd stumbled out of the Emergency Room in relief and he had called them again shortly after Sharon had woken up. "Your mother is in there with Rusty."

Laura and Provenza eyed each other suspiciously but didn't start another verbal fight, for which Flynn was grateful. James approached with Sharon's silver notebook tucked under his arm.

"I brought this for him so he can watch Battlestar with my netflix account."

"The new or the old one?" Provenza asked with an unreadable expression.

James rolled his eyes. It was amazing to see how calm and relaxed he was with people that he knew weren't having sex with his mother. "The new one, of course."

"I like Number Six. She is hot," Provenza stated in a tone that suggested that he was giving a very important state-of-the-union-address.

"Of course you do!" Laura interjected dryly. "What about you, Andy?"

Andy felt his eyes widen, knowing that it was a test Provenza had just failed. Apparently she was trying to judge his character by having him name his favorite female character which was a problem as he had never seen the show - despite Rusty's repeated attempts to get him and Sharon to do so. Sharon, however, insisted that she didn't like spaceships and she wouldn't listen to his assurances that it "wasn't just regular science fiction".

"Oh, he wouldn't know," Provenza said with a dismissive hand gesture. "He's too busy being your mommy's faithful lapdog."

"Provenza!" Flynn warned, but he could see that James' face had relaxed slightly and Laura was grinning despite herself.

The sound of the door startled them all and they found Sharon standing in the doorway, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. When she saw her kids, her face lit up and she walked towards them to hug them firmly in turn.

"I brought your uggs and that sweater you love so much," Laura said and handed the bag to her mother who gave a relieved sigh and held on to Flynn's shoulder to be able to slip out of her heels and into the boots. Provenza looked on with an amused grin on his face while she wriggled into her cardigan.

"What?" Sharon snapped.

"Darth Raydor in those fluffy boots. It's kind of funny," Provenza explained, making James laugh. Flynn was downright amazed as he only knew the kid as slightly aloof. "Did you come up with that nickname? It's awesome! I laughed my head off when mom texted me about it last year. My roommate thought I was nuts."

Sharon made a sound that was between a hum and a growl but then tenderly moved her hand on to Flynn's upper arm. "I see you've resorted to chocolate. Should we get something to eat? I'm really hungry and I bet Rusty is, too."

"Sounds great," James said. "Your fridge is all but empty, mom. Just get me whatever you get yourself, I'll be inside bringing the Battlestar to Rusty." He walked towards the door and Andy put a soothing hand on to Sharon's back when she turned around quickly. Rusty was still at a stage of grief that didn't yet allow for broader displays of emotion. He would probably be better off chatting with James and watching his favorite show than being pampered. Sharon gave him a small smile and sat down on one of the plastic chairs, hands in her lap. She seemed to be taking the doctor's orders to not be on her feet for too long rather seriously. Provenza lowered himself to the seat next to her and folded his hands over his belly, assuming a relaxed posture.

He watched the Captain from the corner of his eye while Flynn and Laura went off in search of something edible. Some color had returned to her cheeks and although her make-up had worn off, she looked bright-eyed and rested. Her whole posture was different from the tense, hunched one she had been displaying over the past few days and he was glad that she seemed more relaxed now.

"Could you text Andy to bring some ice-cream?" Sharon asked suddenly.

Provenza took his phone out of his pocket and sent the desired text. "Good idea. That will cheer the kid up," he said in approval but earned a self-conscious smirk.

"It's actually for me," she admitted and reacted to his astonished look by swatting his arm playfully. "Cravings are a good sign in my case. They always started when the morning sickness was beginning to get better, so maybe soon you won't have to hide your waste basket from me every time I walk past."

"You noticed that."

"Of course I did." She shook her head slightly. "It was embarrassing enough." Her smile betrayed her amusement at the situation. "You've been great those past few days, Lieutenant. Thank you very much for your support."

"Captain, you know I was never one of your more avid supporters, but you have grown on me. On the whole team, really. You mean something to us... to me now and we would like to be there for you. You just have to let us in."

Sharon nodded slowly, staring at her hands. She took some time before she spoke again. "I know. It's a little hard for me to let go sometimes, but with the way things are now, I am sure everything will become more complicated. Rusty is traumatized and now he has lost his mother, too. His full recovery is still a long way down the road and on top of it all, the trial is coming on. I will have to take some time off work, maybe even a few weeks to be there for Rusty, but we owe it to him and to his mother, really, to find out exactly who killed her and why. The circumstances are still foggy and nobody seems to be willing to talk about it. Can you make sure that the case is treated with the necessary priority? I'll be available at all times via my cell but I'll have to stay off my feet for a while. I almost lost the baby and I'm actually on bed rest for a couple of days, but I needed to be here with Rusty." Her voice trailed off and Provenza was shocked and helpless at the sight of tears shining in her eyes. "I almost lost it," she whispered as if she had only just realized it. He looked down at her fingers that were spread wide over what he could now see were the beginnings of a small baby bump.

He imagined a tiny person, half Sharon, half Andy in there, warm and protected in the comfortable darkness of its mother's womb. They needed him and the rest of the team if they wanted to make it through the months that lay ahead. The aftermath of the kidnapping, the investigation into Sharon Beck's death, the Stroh trial – there was a lot the little family would have to go through in the near future and he decided that he would be there for them in some capacity or another. At some point down the line he had started viewing Sharon Raydor as a woman and not just as the Captain who had snatched his job from right under him and for the first time, he felt comfortable taking her hand and holding it between his.

"But you didn't, Sharon. Everything's fine. Rusty will be fine, too." She nodded, fighting back tears. "And in a few months we'll all be back here again, cooing over little Louis Raydor." He was glad to see her laugh and wipe away a stray tear with her free hand.

"It's actually a little girl," she told him.

"Well, then let's hope she doesn't look like her father, shall we?" Sharon giggled and squeezed his hand back.

"I turn away for just one second and you immediately hold hands with my girlfriend! What kind of friend are you?" Provenza rolled his eyes at Andy's comment but the happy expression Sharon's laughter brought about didn't leave his face.

* * *

Andy nuzzled Sharon's neck, eliciting a soft hum from her, then moved on to her shoulder and slipped his hand under the smooth fabric of her pajamas to rest on her stomach. He stroked the soft skin there, longing to reach up and cup one of her breasts that had grown fuller with pregnancy already. Instead he pressed a kiss to her cheek and waited until she turned around in his arms and kissed him on the lips. The kiss remained tame and gentle as she wasn't allowed any kind of physical exertion for a week and sex definitely counted as such.

"Good morning," she murmured and gave him a content smile that still spoke of her relief to have Rusty safe and sound and his injuries already healing. They remained in bed together for another moment, their bodies comfortably nestled against each other. It would be a normal day of work for him and another day of resting at home for her. She was allowed to walk around again now, but the doctor's orders forbade her from going back to the job for another week. He could tell that Sharon was quite relieved to be on sick leave so she wouldn't have to take time off to take care of Rusty. Relations with Taylor were still strained and she didn't feel comfortable asking favors of him.

They finally slipped out of bed, Andy heading for the shower and Sharon shrugging into her robe and walking into the living-room to make breakfast. Andy turned on the faucet and enjoyed the spray of cold water on his skin. Gradually, he turned it warmer until it was hot enough to work the tension out of his back and neck. He was putting on a brave face for Sharon, but in truth he was just as worried for Rusty as she was. They had expected the boy to come out of his shell as time went by, but it had been four days now and still showed no signs of grieving or dealing with his mother's death in any way. Maybe there was a war raging inside him, but if that was so, it never showed. Andy knew that Rusty had always been very adept at hiding his emotions, but it had always shown in another way - rude behavior towards Sharon, self-destruction, sullenness - but now he was eerily calm, almost cheerful.

Andy shaved, dressed and walked into the living-room where Sharon had settled on the couch with a large cup of coffee and the morning paper. She was usually always up before him, always already dressed when he came into the kitchen to find her on a bar stool, making plans or to do lists for the day. Seeing her comfortably curled up on the couch reminded him that they had a lot to talk about, a lot of planning to do. Sharon would stay home for a while after giving birth, but what would happen after that? Would she stay back longer, would they take turns? She was head of Major Crimes so cutting down her hours seemed neither reasonable nor especially practical. Maybe he could cut down his hours, he thought, to take care of the infant.

From the day she'd found out she was pregnant, Sharon had insisted on them taking things slow but ever since she had nearly lost the baby, she was even more distant when it came to planning the future. Knowing her, he was instinctively aware that she was afraid to plan ahead to prevent herself from hurting even more if they turned out to be unnecessary because the baby didn't make it. While he could see her reasoning, he felt the need to know where they stood, to make arrangements for the time the baby came. For one, he was still not officially living with Sharon and Rusty and technically, the condo was too small for a family of four, let alone Sharon's two kids who were visiting regularly. Not being able to foresee what his life would be like in six short months made Andy more nervous than he would have ever expected. His life had gone down the same path for too long to welcome change by relishing control. He checked his watch and found that it was still early so he sat down beside her with his own cup of coffee. She cast the paper aside and placed her hand on his chest, smoothing down the fabric of his shirt with a tender caress.

"Rusty's still asleep. Do you want breakfast?"

"No, thanks. I'm not hungry yet. I'll pick up something on my way to work. What about you?"

She giggled self-consciously. "I had ice-cream. I've got to stop, though, or my weight will explode."

"You actually lost weight over the past few days. Wouldn't hurt gaining some again."

"If you say so," Sharon said but her bright smile gradually faded as her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Are you alright, Andy? You look as if you had something on your mind."

Maybe now was a good moment as any to address his insecurities so he reached out for her hand. "Actually, I have." She tilted her head and ran her thumb over the back of his hand, waiting for him to tell her, so he just went ahead. "Everybody knows about your pregnancy by now, Sharon, and you're starting to show more clearly every week. I just think we need to get together, sit down and plan what lays ahead. There are a thousand things we have to buy, so many details we have to figure out. I mean, we don't even live together-"

"Andy..." Her second hand as now resting against his chest as if she was trying to fend him off, push him away, but at the same time her touch was gentle, almost pleading. She tried a smile but failed. "We have six months yet. We don't need to change anything right now."

He shook his head, frustrated despite the fact that he had expected something along these lines. "We do, Sharon. Once the baby's here we won't have time for planning. Things need to be ready for her and the way you're handling it, I can't help but think that you're procrastinating on purpose. There will always be one more month, one more week to go, but I need security, I need to be able to anticipate how my life will change. We're not twenty anymore."

Sharon inhaled deeply. "No, we're not. We're much, much closer to fifty. Andy, my body-"

"I know you're scared that you might miscarry, Sharon, but it is not a given. The baby is fine, you are fine." She didn't respond but he could feel her muscles tense underneath his touch. For a second he expected her to start crying but she just looked up at the ceiling, squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. "Now is not a good time, Andy," she said. "I need to take care of Rusty. Let's talk about this another time.

"Rusty is asleep, Sharon, and judging from when he finally switched his music off last night, he will be for a while," Andy insisted. "I want a concession from you. I want to know what I am up for. I want to be there when the baby comes, I want to be there for you while you're pregnant. God knows you're already too tired to do grocery runs in the evenings yourself and I don't think you want to go through this without someone who picks up your ice-cream for you."

His joke elicited a small smirk from her and she ran her palm down his cheek. "You're so right, Andy, but I don't want things between us to develop just because of the baby. I don't want to find myself building a future on a dream that might not come true. Please don't pressure me, not now. We'll take care of everything, I promise you. I want you here with me every night. Not just for the ice-cream."

He could see the love in her eyes, but he was frustrated nonetheless. They both had their flaws and they were usually patient with each other, but the recent events had taken their toll on him as well and he wasn't prepared to just bow to her wishes now. Somehow he felt as if he always ended up doing that, always accepted her choices and did what she wanted him to do. He knew that he would become unreasonable and maybe even cruel if he didn't leave right away, so he shied away from her touch and got to his feet.

"There is no sense to this." He was unable to ban the stiff, unhappy tone from his voice and a part of him hoped that she would try to hold him back, but she didn't. Of course she didn't. Sharon Raydor always stood by her choices and believes. She wasn't one to beg and would never be.

The door closed behind Andy and left Sharon feeling hollow inside. The sudden quiet was drowned out by the rushing in her ears and she pressed both of her hands against her face to hide it from the world around her although there was no one there to watch her. She couldn't explain to Andy what she was so terribly afraid of because she worried that he would view it as a personal affront. The condo seemed to be filled with the same emptiness her house had once been. Dread, settling like dust on every available surface and in her heart. His last words to her were still ringing inside her ears like the echo of a loud crash when she sat down on the couch in her living-room, the early morning sunlight dipping the comfortable surroundings into an almost heavenly light. The pleading tone, the way he had looked at her, hoping that she would stall the inevitable once again. His gaze flitting to her stomach where they child was resting, but she had not responded to him, had waited for him to leave, for the door to close behind him so she could weep while her child was sleeping in the other room. She pressed her hand against her protruding stomach and felt her little boy come alive with his first early morning kicks. She needed to get back to her bedroom to dress for the day. Her superior officer wouldn't go easy on her if she was late yet again, but her body felt too heavy, too tired from hours of arguments, blame being thrown around and halfhearted apologies. Sharon leaned her head back against the couch and felt the tension in her neck increase what seemed like tenfold. She was alone. The life she'd built, the plans she had made, all was just water under the bridge now. She realized just now that she was sitting right where she had found him making out with the impertinent blond bimbo hours ago but she was too crushed to get up and sit in the armchair. Sharon felt betrayed, used, humiliated. How would she go on like this? Heavily pregnant? Just a few short weeks away from maternity leave? With a small child and another one due so soon? She suddenly wished she was somewhere else, back in her parents' house, the smell of fresh bread and coffee wafting into her nose, making her feel safe and protected. Her mother's voice calling her down for breakfast. No responsibilities, no children, no colleagues who looked down upon her for being a woman, no need for an armor or strength, just love and comfort.

There was another voice calling her now and she slowly opened her heavy eyes to see her little girl standing in the doorway in her pajamas, having mercifully slept through their parents prolonged argument. She sat up and blinked against the suddenly harsh light of the sun and narrowed her eyes to see that it wasn't her small Laura gazing down upon her. It was a teenage boy, a worried expression on his face.

Her lips formed his name as she slowly came fully awake. "Rusty."

"Hey Sharon. You must have fallen asleep again. I just wanted to make sure you were not passed out."

She sat up, her back sore from her sitting position on the couch, still confused by the dream that might have been just a memory come alive in her mind. Rusty's face was still a mess but the split lip had nearly healed and the bruises had faded to a pale greenish yellow. He walked slightly gingerly due to his broken rib and the injuries along his waist, breaking her heart every single time he limped past.

"I'm fine," she told him although she didn't feel fine at all. "How are you doing today? Did you sleep well?"

He gave her a grin. "Yeah, pretty well. It's a nice day outside. I might hang with a few friends at the park." He walked towards the kitchen and helped himself to a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal. "Are you up for a walk today?"

She suddenly felt the need to stretch and found that her pajamas were clinging to her sweaty skin.

"Not yet, I'm afraid." She pressed both palms against her stomach that suddenly seemed oddly flat to her, compared to how it had just been in her dream. "I am supposed to be off my feet as much as possible."

"Do you mind if I go? I mean, there is no school so there's no homework to do and-"

"No, that's okay. That's okay. If you feel up to it?" she asked carefully.

"Sure, why not. My kidnappers are both in custody and my mother's a bit too dead to lur me away again so there's nothing to be scared of." He gave her a cheeky grin and she had a hard time hiding her shock at the inconsequential way he was referring to his mother's death.

"But take your phone. Keep it switched on at all times and be home for dinner, okay?" She reached out and clasped her hands around his arm in need of some contact. She needed to feel his physical presence to assure herself that everything was fine, that he was really there and safe.

"Sure, Sharon. Call me at least once so I can parade my brand-new iphone around properly."

She chuckled despite herself and reached out to pull him in for their obligatory kiss on the forehead but he pulled away at the last minute, showing no indication of having noticed what she was about to do. Sharon felt a little stung and was left looking after him as he vanished into his bedroom. When she came out of the shower twenty minutes later, he was already gone. She walked back to the sofa and sat down there to watch the brilliant blue sky outside for a moment. Her concern for Rusty grew by the day and now she had also managed to alienate Flynn. Somehow everything seemed to be slipping away from her these days, spinning out of control. She got up and went over to the stereo to put on some music. Tchaivosky always lifted her spirits. So did Vivaldi. Today, however, she felt like something more modern. Maybe one of Rusty's movie soundtracks? She looked around for her notebook but was startled by the doorbell before she could spot it.

Looking down at herself she found that she was presentable enough for a midday caller in her sweatpants and simple dark green t-shirt. Maybe Rusty was back early because he'd forgotten his key again, maybe it was even Andy who was also pretty prone to leaving his things lying around. Her hands closed around the doorknob and she turned it only to be faced with a pair of clear blue eyes under characteristic bushy eyebrows, a shock of salt and pepper hair and a familiar smirk that almost sent her reeling back. She hadn't seen him for such a long time that it was like a blow to the head to suddenly find him standing on her doorstep. Her heart was pounding, her hands shaking and the old, familiar mixture of dread and tenderness had her in its firm, unrelenting grip again as if he'd never been gone.

"Charles? What are you doing here?"


	12. Chapter 12

**12**

Andy Flynn felt like a walking cliché when he entered the Murder Room with a cellophane coffee cup in one hand and a half-eaten doughnut in the other. It was a miracle, really, that his tie had been spared so far as the sugary pastry contained a generous helping of liquid chocolate. The ridiculous amount of sugar he had poured into his latte was beginning to make him slightly queasy which ultimately rendered his plan to cheer himself up by sugar intake unsuccessful. He disposed of his breakfast in the waste basket nearest the door and clapped his hands together to get rid of the last remaining crumbs. In his hurry to get away from Sharon he had left early and so the only other squad member present was Amy Sykes who stopped just short of him when he entered, her unfashionable boots skidding slightly on the linoleum floor. He could see from the somewhat panicky look in her eyes that he didn't owe her erratic movements to her usual overzealousness.

"How's the Captain?" she puffed out, still breathless from her sprint to the door.

"Resting," Andy replied curtly, wondering whether Amy would really jump across the whole room to ask him that question first thing. The young detective pushed her ponytail back to regain some semblance of dignity and pointed towards the conference room.

"A Mr Graham just came in. He's Phillip Stroh's lawyer and he's requesting some files." She shrugged uncomfortably and added: "Also, he wants to talk to the Captain because of Rusty."

Andy squeezed his eyes shut for a moment then squared his shoulders. This was the last thing he needed on a day like this. "Of course, he does. Thanks, Amy. I'll sort him out." Leaving behind a somewhat relieved Sykes, he stalked towards the conference room to meet and greet the lawyer who had taken it upon himself to represent Stroh, serial rapist and killer. With a divorce and a number of testimonies in criminal trials under his belt, Andy had become quite distrustful of lawyers. Of course there were the odd exceptions like Barbara or DDA Hobbs, but in general, he considered them all sleazy bastards. This case hit a bit too close to home and he knew that he should have referred the man to Taylor, but it was early and he'd rather dispose of him as quickly as possible.

Shutting the door behind him, he smoothed his tie down and sat down opposite the visitor at the conference table.

"I am Lieutenant Flynn. What do I owe the pleasure of your visit to?"

Andy wasn't exactly known for his diplomacy and Sharon would have probably elbowed him in the side if she had been there but she wasn't and so Andy was fully intent to act as bastardly as possible. Too bad Provenza wasn't here to play the bad cop to his worse cop.

"Graham." The other man didn't seem in the mood for pleasantries either. He was tall and broad-shouldered with intelligent eyes and an undeniable taste in clothes. His tailored suit was a deep shade of anthracite and the red silk tie screamed power tie. Your typical hotshot lawyer, Andy thought grimly. Then again, he hadn't expected Stroh to hire just anyone who chased his ambulance.

"I'm here to collect some files I need to prepare for Mr Stroh's trial and I was actually expecting to be able to talk to Captain Raydor."

Andy's eyes narrowed. "I might not be a lawyer myself, but I have been in this line of work long enough to be aware that you need a court order to request files. You can't just waltz in here and take them with you. And Captain Raydor won't come in today. She's on sick leave."

The other man turned the expensive watch on his wrist with his perfectly manicured left hand and shrugged.

"Nothing serious, I hope?" There was a glint in his eyes that Andy didn't like.

"None of your business, more like," Andy growled back. Maybe it was the fact that the man opposite him was going to represent Stroh in a criminal trial and was very likely to try to take apart both Brenda Leigh Johnson and Rusty on the witness stand, but Andy had taken an instant dislike to the attorney. He seemed unfazed by the fact that Andy knew legal procedure better than him and he was almost sure that this was part of an intimidation tactic that might or might not have gone the way Graham had expected. It was hard to tell with the man. When he stood, Andy was dismayed to find that he had a few inches on him. Rather tall himself, Andy wasn't used to be towered over. Graham gave a small smile at the discovery and reached out to shake Andy's hand. His grip was so hard that his wedding ring pressed itself painfully into the skin of Andy's hand. He resisted the urge to wince and let go of Graham's hand as if it was on fire.

"I guess I'll see you at the trial, then."

The man tipped an imaginary hat and gave a predatory smile. "Maybe even sooner. Thank you for your help, Lieutenant Flynn."

And with that, he walked out, leaving behind a seething Andy Flynn. That man was definitely able to push his buttons and it didn't bode well for the trial. If he managed to put Rusty in a rage like that, his testimony would be less believable and the off-chance that Stroh could walk free because of it made Andy shiver with disgust. He stood in the door of the conference room until Graham had left and let out a relieved sigh when he heard the whirring of the elevator taking him down to the parking garage. Sykes looked as if she was about to ask questions but Andy waved her off. He wasn't in the mood to indulge the rookie.

"Are there any news on Karkaroff and Rick?" he asked instead.

"Still uncooperative. You know, I thought they'd be blaming Sharon Beck's murder on each other, but they're both not saying a thing. Even Chief Johnson gave up. Says she's never encountered anyone so hard-headed. But I guess they have nothing to lose now, do they?" Sykes shrugged. "We could always talk to Rusty, though. He must have heard something. At least we might be able to establish who was where at the time of the murder. There's something, else, Lieutenant Flynn, I think I might have made a mistake with Graham, I-"

Andy nodded, unsure whether Rusty would have any recollection of time concerning his abduction. He really wasn't in the mood to hear what Sykes had done wrong with the impertinent lawyer. If Provenza liked to play the boss so much, he could deal with it. Rusty was much more important to Andy right now as he and Sharon had decided to give him some time to recover before bothering him with questions about his abduction, but he, too, thought that they would have to start soon if they wanted to find out who had killed Sharon Beck. Lately, another thought frequently crossed his mind: What if none of them had killed her? What if there was something far more sinister going on than met the eye? The whole story, their silence, the many unanswered questions made his insides churn. His cop instincts told him that there was more to this abduction than they had yet uncovered and he hated the idea.

"Okay. Keep looking into it. We need to establish a time line," he told Sykes.

He retreated behind his desk and fired up his computer, still deeply in thought. He had seen his share of criminal defense attorneys over the years, but the Graham guy didn't ring a bell. Maybe Provenza would know him? He looked up from his computer screen when the door opened and his perpetually disgruntled partner walked in with a facial expression that almost resembled a good mood. It had to be curtesy to the beautiful blue sky and bright sunshine outside. Provenza dropped his breakfast roll and coffee on his desk and threw himself into his chair. The absence of his boss seemed to put him in a relaxed mood. He growled when Andy came over and stood next to his desk before he could take a hearty bite out of his breakfast.

"What?" he snapped.

"Some lawyer was just here. Says he represents Phillip Stroh and wanted to talk to Sharon. Also wanted our files."

Provenza rolled his eyes. He disliked lawyers as much as Flynn did. "You didn't hand them over, did you?"

Flynn huffed. "You think I'm new at this? Of course not!"

Provenza chuckled and lifted his take-away coffee to his lips. "Then all is well, isn't it?" He took a large, unappetizing gulp of his coffee, making Flynn cringe.

"Yeah, but the guy bothers me. Seems smart, about my age. Big guy with a really nice suit. But I never heard of him before. Name's Graham."

Flynn jumped backwards when Provenza spit a whole mouthful of coffee over his desk and the nearest parts of the floor. For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other in mutual shock.

"What the hell, Provenza?" Flynn shouted, taking inventory of his suit and finding it blissfully unaffected by the coffee attack.

"Graham?!" Provenza gasped. "That is not good. Not good at all."

Flynn was a little fed up with Provenza's secretiveness and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

"If he is such a nuisance, why have I never heard of him?"

"Because." Provenza sat up straight, a scandalized look on his face. "Because he moved to the East Coast years ago. Graham, as in Charles Graham, Flynn! Sharon Raydor's husband."

* * *

Sharon hadn't seen Charles since Laura's graduation three years ago as due to a trial he hadn't been able to make it for James'. It wasn't unusual for them to not have any contact for such long periods of time, but she wasn't used to finding herself faced with him all of a sudden. Normally she would carefully choose her clothing and make-up and steel herself against the inevitable feelings the encounter would bring about. Now she was caught completely off guard and she didn't like it. Painfully aware of her tangled hair and casual outfit, she took an instinctive step back.

"Hello, Sharon," he greeted her in his silky voice that with age had become even more reminiscent of hot, liquid caramel. When he leaned in to kiss her cheek, the clean scent of his aftershave wafted into her nostrils and she was once again both startled and relieved to find the stench of alcohol absent. He looked her up and down without seeming appraising and squeezed her arm lightly. "You look great, Sharon. Do you ever age?" She ignored his disarming smile that made the over the top compliment sound surprisingly sincere, hoping that the baby wasn't too obvious to an unsuspecting person in her tight t-shirt.

"If I remember correctly, we have an appointment scheduled for next week. With our attorneys present," she pointed out sharply, not moving from the door.

"We're still married, Sharon. I didn't want it all to end like that and since I am in the vicinity for a case, I thought I'd drop by." He gestured towards the living-room. "Can I come in for a moment?"

Sharon couldn't very well have him stand in the doorway all day, so she stepped back and allowed him inside. It was Charles' first visit to the condo. The last time he'd stayed with her and left some of his clothes behind, it had been in her old house that she had moved out of after both of her children had left for college. Being alone in an empty house that was built for four hadn't seemed very tempting, so she had sold it and bought the condo instead.

"That's a nice place," he commented, walking around with a careless ease that suggested that he felt right at home. "Very you."

Charles picked up one of Rusty's school books that had been left on the dining table. "This belongs to your foster kid, I take it. What's his name again?"

"Rusty," she told him.

He nodded with no apparent recognition and looked around some more, taking in the couch, the ballet paintings, the kitchen, giving her the urge to disinfect her belongings. "No signs of your boyfriend, though. Does he live here?"

Sharon wasn't surprised that her children had told their father about the new developments in her life but she hoped that they had honored her request not to tell him about her pregnancy just yet.

"Not technically, no," she replied reluctantly.

Charles turned around from where he was taking in the view and faced her again. He looked good in his expensive suit and red tie. She always forgot how attractive he was. "Does he make you happy?"

She didn't like the question. Estranged as they were, it seemed far too personal, as if he was building on a familiarity that should have been long gone but still lingered somehow. They had been living together for years and they had two children together, after all. Even though they had barely met, let alone talked in depth over the past twenty years, they were everything but strangers.

"He does," she said, though she had to think back to this morning's argument. Flynn really wanted to make her happy and he did, but on some counts he was moving too fast for her.

"That's great," Charles said. "Really."

She couldn't tell whether he was sincere or just sounding so, but she didn't feel comfortable either way. His visit unsettled her and she'd rather have him out of her condo. She was also well-aware of Barbara's reasons to schedule their consultation with Charles and his divorce lawyer for the following week rather than at a later point in time. Her best friend knew Sharon's husband almost as well as Sharon did and she had suggested they make sure negotiations would take place before Sharon began to show too much to ensure that Charles wouldn't try to use her pregnancy against her.

"Have I ever told you how sorry I am for what I put you through?"

Sharon tensed at the unexpected question. The Charles she knew wouldn't apologize for what he'd done. At least not years later. She studied his face, searching for a hint on whether he meant was he what saying or whether he had a hidden agenda she hadn't discovered yet. They good attorney that he was, however, he presented a perfectly smooth facade behind which both honest regret or malice could have been hiding.

"What do you want?" she asked him in her cop voice that, from the surprised look in his face, she had never used on him before. His lips curled into a smile that seemed a lot more familiar. When had he become vicious? He had always been weak, quick to give in to temptation, egoistic to the point of arrogance but never mean or calculating towards her. But she had seen that look in his eyes many times when he was faced with a worthy opponent he meant to crush.

He walked towards her and stopped just before he crossed into her space enough to make her take a step back. His eyes were glittering and despite the fact that she felt threatened by his physical presence, she couldn't help but take in his broad shoulders, muscular built and those eyes that had made her fall in love with him all those years ago. Time had added many lines and wrinkles to his face, but Charles had managed to become even more attractive over the years. Age had taken away the youthful clumsiness and the slight roundness to his face that were still in his son's, leaving him looking more distinguished than ever. It hurt her heart to have him oppose her like that.

"I think you should leave now, Charles," she said firmly. "We have nothing to discuss that would not require the presence of my attorney."

"I'll leave in a minute, Sharon, but there is something you and I have to talk about without your bulldog of a lawyer present."

The Bulldog versus The Cockroach. Sharon would have laughed if she hadn't been feeling such an overwhelming sense of foreboding. He gently touched her shoulder as he hadn't in decades and led her towards her sofa. The threatening stance was suddenly gone and replaced with a tenderness that felt almost protective. She didn't know why but she followed him to the couch and sat down, noticing too late that she had maneuvered herself into an inferior position as she was now left looking up at him whom he was still standing.

"I hear you're on sick leave, Sharon," he said in a voice that sounded as if it contained real sympathy. "Are you okay?"

How could he know that? Sharon crossed her arms and shook her head, no longer caring whether he was right next to her or where ever else. He smelled good, she noticed. The way he had before smoke and booze had begun to perpetually overlay his natural scent. She didn't remember when she had last picked up that scent but it opened up a whole realm of memories. Their first dance, their first kiss, their wedding day. She was almost surprised that it still hurt after all those years, but it did.

"I'm fine, thanks, but you're not here to ask about my health, now, are you, Charles? Why don't we cut to the chase?"

He weighed his head and sat down next to her, turning his whole body towards her. "Well, Sharon. I can't help but wonder why you want to divorce me so suddenly after all these years. Are you going to get married again?"

Sharon shut her eyes briefly. She wasn't prepared to have this talk and she feared that she would never be. And yet here she was, facing her estranged husband and his questions.

"It is none of your business, Charles." She could feel how tense her body was and willed herself to relax. Her doctor had imposed on her several times that any kind of stress was hazardous to her right now, but she couldn't very well tell Charles that.

"Okay, I'll just assume then that you get along so well with your Andy Flynn that you two want to tie the knot sooner rather than later."

Sharon hated herself a little for not telling her children not to tell their father about her new relationship, but then again she had never wanted them to be forced to keep secrets from their father and thereby further complicate their already complicated relationship with him. She still felt guilty for keeping them away from him when they were small even though he'd been a perpetually drunk and unreliable man back then.

"A no-fault is what you want, is it? You'd be happiest for me just to sign those papers, wouldn't you?" he asked and she couldn't deny that.

"We have no ties binding us anymore, Charles. Why not just end it as peacefully as possible and put it all behind us?" she asked, hoping that he would agree.

He nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, but then I signed a stupid little document cooked up by an overeager young family lawyer back then."

Sharon couldn't believe it. Her husband, wealthy and successful again after giving up the alcohol, wanted money. It was as plain and simple as that. He was playing on her buying herself out of their marriage. Father John who had married them would probably drop dead at the notion.

"How much, Charles?" she snarled. "How much does a little signature like that cost me?"

"You don't have to be a lawyer to know that it is not just a signature, Sharon. And it would be quite impious to put a number on a divorce, wouldn't it?"

Sharon chuckled dryly. "Right. As if you lawyers weren't doing that quite frequently, anyway." She turned towards him and narrowed her eyes, sticking her chin out. "I'll tell you this, Charles: You won't see a penny from me. I raised our two kids all by myself and I paid for everything down to the birthday presents I pretended were from you so they wouldn't be too devastated that you never called. If you want to face me in court, so be it, but as a lawyer you should know that it will be your loss, not mine."

Charles shook his head, his emotions hidden behind that same perfectly neutral expression that she had learned to hate back when they were still living together as he could even uphold it when he was out of his mind drunk. Never being able to read him had driven her crazy and was driving her crazy right now.

"You haven't changed, Sharon," he told her, baring his teeth slightly. "Still too combative for your own good. But believe me, you don't want me as your enemy right now."

She stood up with a start.

"You need to leave right now."

He followed her quickly, suddenly all up in her face.

"Did you hear what I said, Sharon? We'll see a lot more of each other soon, trust me."

Sharon was trembling with rage now. "Not if I can help it."

"You probably won't. Or are you going to stay away from the Stroh trial when Rusty Beck testifies? I don't think you will."

_He was in town for a case_. Sharon felt the blood drain from her face when she finally made the connection.

"You're Phillip Stroh's attorney?" she asked feebly, still hoping that she was wrong, that the pieces of the puzzle had not fallen into their correct places.

"You bet, Sharon. You should think about a nice settlement for me and we'll be good."

Sharon felt overwhelmed. How much more could go wrong? Why couldn't she seem to catch a break every once in a while? God knew, she needed it.

"Leave, Charles!" she hissed at him and he raised both of his hands in mock defense.

"I'll be out in a minute. Are you sure you're alright? You seem awfully pale."

"Charles..." she warned.

But Charles Graham had always been someone to play his trump card at the very end, when his opponent was already very close to the edge of the looming abyss of defeat and it was no different today. He touched her elbow and gently coaxed her back on to the couch. She went along with it just because she didn't trust her legs to support her any longer as they seemed to have turned to jelly with the previous revelation. Charles withdrew his hands when she shook them off and gave her an unexpectedly warm smile.

"Sorry to do this to you, Sharon, but I am in a bit of a precarious situation financially," he said and she even believed his apology. Charles was not a vicious man, he was just very mindful of his own concerns and was prepared to do anything to get what he wanted. Oddly, she knew that he wasn't doing all this to hurt her, but despite it. It didn't make the situation any more bearable, though. Intentionally hurting someone and not caring whether someone got hurt were quite similar things, after all.

"Sometimes I still miss you," he said and the look in his eyes was convincing enough to make Sharon sick. "It feels weird to know that you have finally moved on - although I am also happy for you."

"Could you please spare me the sweet talk?" Sharon spat.

Charles shrugged. "Okay. Then let's talk business, Sharon. I went to your office today to see you and I met not only your very charming boyfriend, but also a young, bright detective named Sykes who, when asked about your whereabouts, confided in me that you were resting at home after a near-miscarriage."

Sharon's heart sank. It couldn't be. She should have known that Charles wouldn't make the demands he was making without having something against her and she also knew that he was not someone who would abuse his position as a lawyer to blackmail others with it.

"Judging from the looks of you and the empty bowl of ice-cream in the kitchen, I guess you have a little less than six months left. Am I correct?" He leaned in, suddenly serious. "We both know you want the divorce over and done with before you give birth. That would be another nice incentive to speed it up, don't you think?" He consulted his watch. "But I have kept you too long already. I've got to run as I have an appointment with my client in an hour. Don't bother, I'll find my own way out."

He rose and walked towards the door then paused with his hand on the doorknob, smiling at her over his shoulder: "And Sharon: Congratulations!"

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

Vladimir Karkaroff enjoyed the warm sunlight on his face when he was released into the jail's closed off yard. He took an appraising look around, saw the younger ones kicking an old ball around, some others trading in various things for cigarettes, the number one currency around here, and some just lounging on the hard wooden benches that still were a welcome change from the uncomfortable bunks in their cells. Soon he found what he was looking for and joined a ruffled-looking middle-aged man by the far wall, and leaned against it right next to his wiry body.

"Nice weather," he commented, grinning slyly.

"Indeed."

The other man pulled the remains of his cigarettes from between his lips and threw it away. Both watched as the glowing ember died on the pavement.

"Still keeping silent?" The other man asked without looking at him.

"Of course," Karkaroff replied, making sure that there was a bit of hurt pride seeping into his tone. "I know what I am paid for."

"Good, because otherwise, or so I am to tell you, you'll be suffering the same fate as Sharon Beck."

Karkaroff chuckled. "Please. I am not too nosy for my own good."

The other man nodded, his dark eyes glittering ominously. "Well, keep it that way."

Karkaroff closed his eyes and inhaled the spicy air. Soon he would be outside again and his first walk would lead him to the beach where he would have a cocktail and a nice slumber in a deck chair. He grinned to himself as he walked back towards the building.


	13. Chapter 13

**13**

Andy returned to Sharon's condo at around five in the evening and found it unusually quiet. He walked into the living-room to check whether she was out on the balcony, enjoying the warm and spicy air of the formidable summer evening, but found it empty and the doors locked. Frowning, he gently rapped his knuckles against the bedroom door and opened it just wide enough to peek his head in. Indeed the blinds were closed and Sharon was in her bed, facing away from him with her covers pulled up to her nose. He couldn't help but smile at the cozy sight and cleared his throat.

"Sharon? I bring offerings of peace."

Her answer was a soft groan and he approached her quickly, worried that something might be wrong with her or the baby but it turned out that she was just sleepy. Turning around, she blinked tiredly at him. Andy sat down on the bed and gently stroked strands of hair back from her face after placing the box of her favorite chocolates where he could find a free spot on her nightstand. She closed her eyes again and hummed when he gently began to massage her scalp.

"How was my favorite ladies' day?" he asked her teasingly. He knew that she didn't like overly cute talk and he was sure that it would wake her up. It did indeed as her face tensed and she sat up.

"It sucked, so to speak, courtesy of Detective Sykes," she said darkly and Andy was reminded with a start that he had never followed up on the indiscretion the young detective had hinted upon that morning. Sharon shook her head at his quizzical gaze. "She told Charles that we're having a baby and that I almost lost it."

Andy was stunned. He hadn't expected that. "What- did he call you to tell you that?"

"Better," Sharon said with a painful smirk. "He was here, demanding a hefty little divorce settlement so he would sign the papers. The baby's perfect leverage as well as the fact that he is Phillip Stroh's defense attorney. Which I am sure you knew since this morning." She stared at him morosely and Andy was beginning to feel thoroughly uncomfortable under her hard gaze.

"I knew that but I had no idea that he knew about the baby. I'm sorry, Sharon. I should have called you but I didn't want to interrupt your quiet day."

"Well, it was interrupted alright," Sharon said tiredly, but a little less angry with him. "Are those my favorite?" she asked, pointing at the box of chocolates he had brought.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm sorry about bailing on you this morning. It was stupid." Andy shook his head wistfully. "You know me, sometimes I am a little too forceful for my own good. Let's postpone all the planning until you're back on your feet."

Sharon gave him a small smile and patted his arm. "Okay. I'll also try to be a little more cooperative. While we're on the subject of planning," her face lit up a little. "I came up with an idea for a name while I was laying in the dark, pitying myself over my spectacularly dumb choice of husband."

"Really?" Andy asked, taking it for a good sign and as if there was someone to overhear them, she leaned in and whispered it into his ear. He laughed at the suggestion and nodded in agreement. "I like that." He placed his palm over her stomach. "I think she has grown again since this morning."

A dark look came over Sharon's face. "Shut up or I'll start to cry." He wanted to say something but she stopped him. "Sorry, but Charles' being here brought back so many memories today. I just want this whole goddamn ordeal to be over." Andy was relieved when she didn't resist his attempt to pull her into his arms and rested her head against his shoulder instead.

"We'll make it through, okay? I am not sure how but we will. I brought groceries for a barbeque tonight. I am sure Rusty will love it, too. You should see what a beautiful evening it is."

She drew back to look up at him. "Do I have to do anything?"

He chuckled. "No. Not at all. If you want to, I'll even carry you to your deck chair."

She poked his chest playfully. "I don't want you to sprain anything, Lieutenant."

"You mean because I am carrying two at the same time?"

"Would you stop it!" Sharon commanded but laughed when he silenced her protest by means of a kiss that soon got deeper. She squealed slightly when he made her lay back on the bed and moved to hover over her, conscious not to put his weight on her. "This is getting a little out of hand," she gasped when they came up for air and his hand had long since disappeared under her shirt.

"What do you mean?" He feigned innocence.

"I mean the door is open and Rusty is due to come back any minute," she chuckled, running her hands up and down his back. "And I'm not allowed-"

"Yeah, yeah." Andy climbed out of bed and unexpectedly lifted her into his arms, causing her to shriek with surprise and throw her arms around his neck. "Now stop squirming, Sharon, or I'll drop you." She stilled and pressed her face into the crook between his shoulder and his neck to muffle her giggles. In the corridor they ran into Rusty who was just returning home and mistook the display for an emergency and her laughter for tears.

"Something wrong?" he asked in shock.

"No. Follow us, you can open the patio doors so I can drop the lady off. And then we'll have a barbeque."

"Nice," Rusty said appreciatively. "We tried it last year but Sharon sucks at barbequing stuff."

"So do you!" Sharon lifted her head just long enough to shoot back at Rusty.

"Can we invite Provenza?" Rusty asked when they were all standing outside on the patio, surrounded by Sharon's countless plants. "I really don't think I can take your sickening cuteness all by my lonesome all evening."

Sharon narrowed her eyes but Andy shrugged. "That might actually be a good idea. He's still mad at me. Maybe a nice burger will pacify him."

An hour later, Provenza arrived all dressed for the occasion in his white fisher hat, matching shorts and a dark green polo shirt, a six pack of beer tucked under his arm. He awkwardly kissed Sharon's cheek, hit Andy in the back and handed a can of beer to Rusty. Sharon growled audibly but nodded her go ahead for one, just one. She had changed into a comfortable, simply-cut midnight blue cotton dress and was barefoot, soaking up the warmth that the terracotta tiles had acquired during the day.

"Before you ask, Sykes confessed her little slip-up to me and when I informed her about who she had just spilled the beans to, she looked ready to faint. I considered not giving her hell for a moment but then I decided otherwise." He took a sip of beer with a gleeful expression. "I can assure you she'll never do anything like it again in her lifetime."

Andy half-expected Sharon to take pity on Amy, but she just nodded with a grim expression and attacked the chicken and wholemeal bun thing she passed as a burger in silence. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to be present the next time she met Sykes. Darth Raydor's appearances had become more rare but whenever she emerged, Andy was always a little stunned and fairly taken aback at what the gentle woman he knew had up her sleeve for when she got angry.

"Andy, your burgers are really good," Rusty complimented him in the overly cheerful manner he had adopted ever since he had been released from the hospital. Sharon smiled and reached out to cover her foster son's hand with hers but he pulled it back just in time to make her grab into thin air. She reached for her glass, pretending that she had never intended to touch him but Andy could tell that she was disappointed.

"Now, Rusty! My niece's daughter goes to St. Joseph's and she got the results to her finals this morning. How about yours?" Provenza's voice boomed and Rusty looked up from where he was wolfing down his food.

"Oh, good," he said nonchalantly. "Passed everything. Three A's, two B's."

A sudden jingling of metal on porcelain announced the fact that Sharon had accidentally dropped her fork. "But Rusty, that's fantastic! Why didn't you tell us?"

Rusty shrugged but didn't take his eyes off his burger, resuming his noisy eating.

"Well, that calls for celebration!" Provenza drawled, unaware of the awkwardness of the situation. "Allow the young man another beer, Sharon!"

Rusty looked up at Sharon with a hopeful look in his eyes. "Sounds like a good idea."

"No," Sharon said firmly. "One is more than enough. I shouldn't have allowed you that one in the first place." Then she was quiet while Provenza chatted away noisily, telling Rusty about all the summer activities he was now free to pursue. Andy noticed that she balled up her napkin and pushed her plate away despite the fact that she hadn't finished even half of her food. He longed to put a comforting hand between her shoulder blades but didn't as public displays of affection between them were still a bit problematic in front of Provenza. Soon Rusty and Provenza were engaged in a lively discussion about the best burger places in town and Sharon excused herself to change into warmer clothes as the sun was rapidly setting and she was beginning to shiver. Once she had gone, Andy made up a lame excuse and followed her inside, his departure hardly noticed by his two remaining dinner companions. In her bedroom, Sharon had traded the dress for a light cashmere sweater and leggings and was on the side of her bed, putting on socks when Andy walked in. She looked up and gave him a sad smirk.

"Hey," he said gently. "Are you okay?"

She exhaled, frustrated. "Yes. Yes, I am okay. It's just... do you see how distant he is towards me? His exams meant the world to him and just over a week ago he would have told me as soon as he opened the letter. And now?" She raised her hands in defeat. "He pretends that everything's fine but I'm worried about him." She shook her head and added more quietly. "And it hurts."

Flynn's heart broke at her forlorn expression and he sat down next to her to put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure he will come around, Sharon. Maybe he's just shutting down because he doesn't know how to deal with everything any other way."

She nodded. "You know, back when we first met I'd never thought a trouble-making, wise-cracking moron like yourself could be that insightful."

"Hey!" he warned. "I am not a moron!"

She stood up and kissed him gently on the lips. "I know that now. It's just that your disciplinary file was quite legendary around FID."

"You're trying to avoid the subject of Rusty," Flynn told her in another bout of insightfulness. "But it will get better. I promise you. He just needs a little time."

"Thank you." She smiled up at him then touched his cheek to pull him in for a kiss. When they came apart, she reached her hand out for his.

"I actually did something productive today. Come on, I'll show you." Flynn grasped her warm hand in his and followed her towards her closet, wondering what she might have for him there. When she opened the double doors towards the spacious walk-in, he couldn't help but smile. He didn't know how she'd done it, but somehow she had managed to confine her ridiculous amount of clothes and shoes to one side of the closet so that there was now a reasonable amount of empty space to hang suits and place folded garments.

"I thought you might need some room for your things," she said with a smile. "There's one condition, though."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Some of those shirts you wear outside of work have to go. I'll buy you new ones, I promise."

Andy chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Thank you, Sharon."

"Don't flatter yourself any, Andy. It's all because of the ice-cream."

"Of course it is, Sharon. Of course it is."

* * *

"Thank you, Mr Jenkins. We just needed to follow up on a few details. Detective Sanchez is going to walk you to the elevator." Sharon gave her witness a smile and rose to shake his hand goodbye. Flynn followed her example and tried to put a reasonable amount of sympathy into his gaze when he looked at the man who had lost his wife in a brutal attack five nights ago although he felt tired and worn after five days of little sleep, stake-outs and endless discussions in the Murder room about how the killer had been able to flee without being seen by the neighbors. He could tell that Sharon was tired, too, but she did her best not to show it. Flynn, however, knew better than to try and talk her into leaving early as she had tried to do so a couple of nights ago and had been rewarded with an earful and a very sharply pronounced "Lieutenant". Sometimes he still manages to unwittingly cross the professional boundaries they needed to uphold as much for their own as for their team's and Taylor's sakes.

When he made to leave, Sharon quickly held on to his arm to hold him back. He gave her a surprised look but waited for the interview room's door to close before he furrowed his brow quizzically. With a live video feed to the media room, the interview room wasn't exactly the appropriate place for intimate talk. Sharon smiled encouragingly and wrapped her fingers around his hand then gently placed his palm against her swollen stomach. At first he only felt the expensive material of her elegant dress and the warmth of her skin radiating through, then there was a sudden twinge of movement under his fingertips which caused Sharon to hum quietly. A quick look at her confirmed that he was indeed feeling his daughter move for the very first time and he felt his heart beginning to beat faster inside his chest. After all those stressful days, it was a welcome surprise that hinted at the fact that there was a life outside of work.

"She's been active all morning but with wrapping up the case I couldn't seem to find the right moment to have you feel it," Sharon explained with another smile, pressing her lips to Andy's cheek.

"That's amazing," Andy answered and used his free hand to cup Sharon's face. "She's really here."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Isn't that painfully obvious?"

He shook his head but didn't grace her wary question with an answer. At 20 weeks, Sharon was showing quite obviously, but was still relatively slender. "I know you're watching your diet and all, but what about I take you out for a celebratory dinner tonight?"

She sighed luxuriously and at the same time shifted his hand on her stomach to where the baby had moved to.

"That sounds like a great idea. I guess it depends on when you get back with Rusty, doesn't it?"

"Damn." Andy had nearly forgotten about the fact that he had offered to take Rusty to the DA's office where trial preparations had started so he could be briefed and prepared as a witness for the upcoming trial. Truthfully, Andy wasn't looking forward to spending time with the now perpetually sullen teenager. He realized that he was going through a rough patch but his behavior towards Sharon wasn't something that Andy felt he would be able to tolerate much longer. Where he had been treating her with indifference shortly after his abduction, he was now distant and sometimes even slightly rude and disrespectful which had peaked in his technically calling her a bitch a few nights ago. Sharon's tolerance for ungrateful teenagers seemed to have no limits and she had just raised an eyebrow at his asking her to "stop acting like a bitch", but Andy didn't like it at all and he couldn't seem to think of a way to make it better. Talking to Rusty was difficult as it was and he knew that Sharon didn't want him to jeopardize his relationship with the boy as they were still on reasonably good terms. It was Sharon that Rusty seemed to suddenly hold a grudge against. Under his hand, the baby performed another somersault and Sharon giggled. He hadn't seen her that happy and relaxed in a while and it warmed his heart to hear her laugh like that. Despite the fact that they were prone to being watched, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips to which she responded by stepping closer and wrapping her arms around him. They stood like that for a moment, then she let go and mechanically adjusted his tie with her hands lingering on his chest even after she was finished.

"I think you need to get going now. I bet Rusty's already waiting," she said softly, covering his hand with hers before he reluctantly pulled it back.

"Right. I'll call you as soon as I know when I'll get home."

They filed out into the hallway where they did their best to transform back into Captain Raydor and Lieutenant Flynn who gave each other polite nods goodbye before he headed towards the break room and she went for her office where a mountain of paperwork was awaiting her. Sharon leaned back in her chair for the shortest of moments to enjoy the golden mid-afternoon sunlight on her face. Dinner sounded perfect, she had to admit. They had been tremendously busy with a number of demanding back-to-back cases and after wrapping up the latest one today, it looked as if they would get the evening off. She was sure that she would just fall into bed and fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but something nice to eat before that sounded heavenly. When she opened her eyes again and sat up, a rather big cardboard box on her desk caught her eye. With a frown, she detached the accompanying note and found that it was from the crime lab where she had sent Ronnie Beck's personal effects weeks ago to be processed and checked for fingerprints. The attached report didn't look promising as no fingerprints but Ronnie's had been found on any of the items. She sighed, still disappointed beside the fact that it had been a long shot anyway. Everything in the Beck murder investigation seemed to be and just last week Taylor had called her into his office to impose on her that it was no longer a top priority for the Major Crimes division. She hadn't told Rusty yet that she had been essentially told to back off and she wasn't looking forward to it.

With a sigh she opened the box and looked inside at the neatly folded clothes, bag and a glossy magazine whose front page announced the wedding of a starlet that was already divorced again. It filled Sharon with an indefinite sadness to think that Ronnie Beck's life fit into a cardboard box that had ended up on the desk of a woman she had despised. She hadn't given her things much scrutiny despite the obvious when she had hurriedly packed them back then and so she wasn't sure whether there was anything among the knick-knack that Rusty might want to hold on to, so she drew the blinds although she had sent her team home early and began to meticulously go through them, smoothing crinkles out of clothes and dog-ears out of the magazine and a small calendar that didn't contain anything of significance. There was a small, cheap watch that looked almost pathetic with its chapped plastic and faded green color, a yellow notepad that contained nothing but a scribbled telephone number that Sharon had found out weeks ago was that of a nearby Chinese take-out, a bag that contained cheap cosmetics.

Ronnie Beck's life seemed inconsequential, empty and filled with nothing that might have even been remotely special. Sharon thought of the nice things she had bought for herself over the years, the material possessions she cherished and every tiny scrap of her children's lives. She hadn't even thrown the most insignificant of notes and pictures away but stored them all in her closet. After some digging, she finally came across something that made her smile. In the pocket of an old jacket, she found a small, faded photograph that showed a much younger Ronnie and a small, blond child that was smiling into the camera and holding a teddy bear. She had always regretted the fact that Rusty didn't have any reminders of his childhood and now she would be able to present him with at least one. After having tucked the picture into her wallet for safekeeping, she lifted a pair of awfully small-looking jeans. The clothes were too shabby even to give them to charity and she decided to take them home and allow Rusty to decide what to do with them. He'd probably be angry with her if she just threw them away as he seemed to be angry with her for almost anything she did these days. Sharon was secretly glad that Andy had volunteered to drive him to the District Attorney's office. Sitting with him through another session might have done her head in. While loving a child meant that even during more difficult times, one would not turn away from it and Sharon still felt just as strongly for her ward, it was becoming strenuous as was her demanding job and her pregnancy, so she was glad that she had been granted an afternoon off.

She had reached the bottom of the box now and found a checkered blouse that had shifted during transport and had been crinkled by the weight of the rest of the box's contents, so she picked it up and smoothed it out. Under her fingertips, something crackled and she reached into the breast pocket, narrowing her eyes. The receipt looked new, not as if it had been washed with the garment. Apparently Ronnie had had a cup of coffee at a small cafe called "Rosie's". The address confirmed that it had to be inside the mall that was located close to the treatment center. What made Sharon gasp was the date. One day before Rusty had been taken. She hurriedly grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and decided that the paperwork could wait until the next day.

Crossing the abandoned murder room, she found Julio Sanchez still at his desk, black-haired head bent over one document or another, and paused in her stride to wave at him. "Heading home, Captain?" he asked, wearing a tired smile.

"After another stop on the way, yes," she explained. "Why are you still here? I remember telling everyone to get the hell out of here to make up for all that unpaid overtime." She leaned against his desk and smiled to make sure he knew that she was not critizising, just teasing him.

"I know. My car broke down a few days ago. It's still in repair and I am waiting for a friend to get off work so he can take me home."

Sharon shook her head regretfully, remembering when Andy's car had broken down just before their first date. Nice food at an Italian restaurant had been replaced with dry sandwiches from a vending machine, but then she hadn't done it for the food in the first place.

"I have to stop by the mall near where Sharon Beck was treated for her addictions. Your place is close by, isn't it? I can take you."

Julio gave her an unsure smile. "It's really just another two hours waiting. I don't want you to have to go out of your way to drive me home, Captain."

She waved him off. "Don't be silly! Get your jacket and come on."

Julio didn't need another invitation and followed her into the elevator. Sharon hadn't been in much contact with him outside work so far, but she liked his calm presence and friendly nature. The undefined sadness that sometimes surrounded him made her wonder what he had lived through that had given him that introspective look she sometimes saw cross his face. For a moment they stood in the kind of uncomfortable silence that occurs when work acquaintances find themselves in a private situation together but then Julio turned towards her.

"Good work with the Lennon case. I didn't think the suspect would crack."

"I didn't either." She raised her eyebrows playfully. "Sometimes you just have to be lucky."

"We didn't have much luck with the Beck case. Is your visit to the mall related to it, in any case?"

Sharon explained her findings to him which made him give a pleased little sound. He cared for Rusty just as deeply as the rest of her team did and she could tell that he was frustrated with the turn the investigation had taken.

"Would you mind if I tagged along?" he asked. "I'd like to see whether that leads us anywhere and just in case you encounter someone dangerous-"

Sharon patted his upper arm with a slight chuckle. "I don't think armed bandits will jump out at me at Rosie's, but I appreciate the gesture. I'd very much like for you to accompany me."

Forty minutes later, they stood in front of a little cafe that seemed to have been furnished by someone who very much loved the color pink. Pink tiles, pink upholstering, even pink coffee mugs gave off the impression that hypoglycemia would be the possible results of staying inside for too long. A young blond waitress in a pink apron gave them a sweet smile and pointed at the display of cupcakes in front of her. "The pink ones are half price today!" she beamed.

"Color me surprised," Sharon answered sarcastically, eliciting a small chuckle from her companion. "I'm Captain Sharon Raydor of the LAPD, this is Detective Sanchez. We're following up on a lead in a murder investigation." The girl blanched and quickly wiped her hands on a tea towel.

"Really?" Her eyes widened as realization sunk in. "No one was murdered here."

"We're not implying that," Sanchez hurried to say and Sharon decided to leave the questioning to him as the girl gave him a smile that suggested that she was taking to him a lot more quickly than to Sharon. The cupcakes did look good. Maybe she should take some home for after dinner. Or for the ride home, she thought. She was officially on a strictly healthy diet to keep the baby weight to a minimum, but sometimes she liked to secretly indulge.

"Our victim had a drink here two days before she was murdered." Julio handed her the receipt over the counter. "Any chance that you remember her?" Sharon held up a picture of Ronnie Beck but earned only a shake of the head.

"That was around noon. It's insanely busy around here, I'm sorry."

Sharon hadn't expected anything else but felt a little stung anyway. Why didn't this investigation ever go anywhere? She gestured towards the camera above the counter.

"How long do you keep your surveillance footage for?" She knew it was, once again, a long shot as Ronnie had been here eight weeks ago, but she couldn't think of anything else.

"I don't know... You should probably ask Rosie, the owner."

Rosie turned out to be an overly made-up woman in her forties whose red curls were very obviously the result of an eager, possibly expensive but not even remotely talent hair colorist and clashed violently with her pink surroundings. The woman almost fell over herself in order to help and murmured something about telling her girlfriends about this which hardened Sharon's belief that she was a rich wife who was running a cafe in order to have something to do. The length of her pink nails suggested that she had never served a single coffee herself and impressing the neighbors seemed to be an important goal to her. She carried a notebook towards one of the tables and had some difficulties finding the program at first which gave Sharon some hope. If she didn't even know how to access the files, chances were that she hadn't deleted them recently. And indeed, the past three months were still fully documented as this was the period after which the program automatically deleted the footage. Conscious of the heavily perfumed woman hovering over her shoulder, Sharon clicked on the appropriate time and found herself faced with a wide shot of the cafe. Exactly three minutes before the time on the receipt, Sharon Beck walked through the frosted glass door wearing cheap sunglasses and a faded t-shirt. Right behind her, a tall, well-dressed man squinted at his surroundings and rolled his eyes.

"Captain, are you okay?" Julio had heard her sharp intake of breath and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Sharon felt hot and cold in rapid succession and then looked up at her detective.

"I'm okay, Julio. It's just that I know that man."

* * *

His head felt as if his brain had been replaced with jelly - thick, sluggish jelly that billowed around between his ears and made it impossible to produce a logical thought. The image made him nauseous and he reached for the basket next to him with clumsy, clammy fingers. His body felt feverishly hot and his limbs seemed to be heavier than they were supposed to be. Whether he was able to carry out the movement he had been going for seemed to be down to pure luck and when he sat up, the room began to spin around him. Only now he realized that he wasn't in his bedroom. This wasn't even any room he remotely recognized. Sickly green walls, linoleum floors, artificial light. This wasn't even close to Sharon Raydor's condo. Rusty's fingers found the cold surface of the plastic bucket the memory of which was lodged somewhere in his lazy, dysfunctional brain and he began to retch violently, acutely aware of how dry his throat felt. All the while, panic was beginning to built. Had he been kidnapped again? Was Rick back? Or the Polish guy? How had he been snatched?

Soon he was only dry-heaving and the stench of his own vomit pulled him back into reality, made his memories come back. The last thing he remembered were Jo and Sam, the two guys he'd met at the football game weeks ago, the clicking of bottles, the spicy smoke of the rolled-up cigarette between his fingers dulling his senses. He hadn't been abducted, he wasn't a victim. This was his own fault. It felt as if someone had pulled a veil away from his eyes when he realized where he was and why.

There were footsteps down the hall and he heard a voice that through the haze he vaguely remembered as familiar.

"He's right here, but he's in bad shape."

Rusty didn't believe in god and at school he just put his head down and folded his hands like everyone else, his mind empty, but he would have really liked to pray at that very moment.

_Let it be Andy, let it be Andy._

But it was Sharon, her hair tousled from sleep, her eyes a little puffy, she was not wearing any make-up. At work she somehow managed to hide her swollen stomach with suits and scarfs but, thrown out of bed in the middle of the night, she hadn't bothered with it and it was fairly visible under the white t-shirt and tight cardigan she had wrapped around herself against the early morning cold. Rusty didn't appreciate the sudden clarity of mind that replaced the fogginess as it brought feelings of guilt and shame. She looked so tired. Sharon didn't get enough sleep as it was and now here she was, in a jail cell, to pick him up.

Despite her vulnerable exterior, her voice was firm and authoritative when she spoke to the uniformed officer. "Thank you, Jack. Could you give me a moment with him before we handle the formalities? I'd like to hear his side of things before I deal with this."

The cop bowed his head to the superior officer and took a discreet step back. "Take your time, Captain. Just call me when you're ready. I'll be right down the hall."

"Thank you," she replied and she seemed to acknowledge Rusty for the very first time. Her eyes were appraising and void of emotion, just what they had been when he had insulted her when he'd first started living with her. She, too, shut her feelings down if she needed to and she couldn't be weak in front of him or in front of the cops around her. He watched her as she pulled up a chair and sat down opposite him. The look on her face was so different from the tender, loving one she had given him two months ago when he had woken up in the hospital that it gave him goosebumps. He'd blown it, had finally made her snap.

He wanted to break the silence, wanted to tell her how sorry he was, how he didn't know what he had been thinking, but his parched lips remained sealed. Somehow he couldn't muster the courage or the strength to talk to her. Just like it had been during the past six weeks. He couldn't talk to her, couldn't look at her. She shifted uneasily in the uncomfortable chair and adjusted her glasses.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" she finally asked in her cop voice, the one she used when she talked to witnesses or suspects that she had just met for the very first time.

He shrugged, aware of the fact that she'd lay it out for him anyway.

"You were found in a public square downtown, slugging down vodka from a bottle. You also reeked of marihuana, so it's not just underage drinking but also probably substance abuse." Her voice was quiet but undeniably dangerous. Rusty knew that Sharon wasn't one for yelling, especially not in a semi-public place like this one. She would not lower her guard, she would continue talking to him like that but he knew that this voice carried more rage than any yelling could. He began to shiver and felt around the small cot for the itchy blanket he'd discovered earlier.

"I don't think I need to impress upon you how severe these charges are, Rusty, but I distinctly remember telling you to be and stay home before nine o'clock on a school night. You snug out, I suppose?"

Rusty shrugged again, suddenly too tired and too shaky to talk. Sharon straightened up and shook her head. He could see that she knew that there was no point in trying to talk to him any further in his state.

"Don't you even think for a minute that you'll get out of this one," she stated simply. "but I'll have to get you home, now. Can you stand?"

She walked towards him and offered her shoulder to hold on to. Rusty didn't want to lean on her with her round belly, but she didn't seem to mind, didn't even flinch at what had to be the stench of alcohol, vomit and dope when she came close to him and pulled his arm around her shoulder to help him up. The world spun, his knees were weak, but with Sharon's help he made it to the door. The officer from before hurried to take him off his foster mother and she let go of him surprisingly quickly, stepped aside and watched as he was dragged to the main part of the station where the cop disposed of him in a chair.

He watched Sharon lean onto the officer's desk with a convincing little smile on her face.

"I have a very sensitive situation here, Jack," she said in a persuasive voice. "He's my foster kid, a material witness in a murder case and he's going through a rough patch. Nothing I can't handle but charges brought against him for drug abuse and underage drinking are the last thing we need right now. Now, I see that it would be against the rules to just drop them all." She gave him a rather sweet smile that was quite uncharacteristic of her. "but could we just skip the drug test and focus on the fact that he was drinking?"

"That's a rather minor offense compared to what went down there, Captain," Jack said with a definitely apologetic tone in his voice. "Your charge was wandering around a plaza in the middle of the night, shouting expletives and drinking hard liquor from a bottle. Even if we left out the marihuana, there is still a lot to go on."

Sharon nodded, her lips pressed together. "I know, I know. You're just doing your job, Jack. Still, you do have a little leverage in the matter, don't you? It was his first offense and we could just say that it was a bit of juvenile levity. I can assure you that it will not happen again. Actually, I'll personally vouch for it."

"Ma'am, as much as I would like to make concessions, your kid was stirring up quite a lot of trouble."

He looked already half-convinced and looked down at where Sharon had placed her hand against her stomach with a soft sigh. She never displayed weakness, so it had to be deliberate, a ploy to get the officer to do her bidding. And it seemed to work as the man gestured towards the chair in front of his desk.

"Would you like to sit, Captain Raydor?"

"Oh, no." She straightened up as if she'd been caught and gave him a slightly confused smile. "I'm sorry for trying to bribe you into going easy on my charge. I understand that you can't just drop it all after what happened. Can I drive Rusty home now? I promise we'll be back tomorrow to face the consequences."

Jack looked undecided for a moment, then pulled a report form near. "Okay, we're stretched pretty thin at the moment so I am the only one who was involved in this. Let's just pretend it was just underage drinking. I see that this is tough for you and for your kid, so just fill this out. There will probably be a hearing of some sort, but he'll get away with community service, I am sure." Sharon took the offered pen and began to quickly complete the form.

"I am very grateful, Jack," she told him with an almost flirty look over the rim of her glasses and patted his arm then slid the sheet of paper back towards him. "I'll make sure everything goes according to procedure," she added, then pulled Rusty to his feet. She said her goodbyes and he followed her into the crisp night air that already carried the scents of early morning. Somewhere in the distance, he could see the sky turning from black to dark blue, so it had to be around five in the morning. Sharon opened the passenger's door for him and climbed behind the wheel. She waited until he had strapped himself in and then drove off.

Sharon wordlessly handed him a water bottle but didn't take her gaze off the road, so Rusty gulped down the much-needed liquid and made no attempt to talk to her. The past eight weeks were a bit of a blur in his mind which was mainly due to the fact that Rusty still didn't know what to think about his mother's death. He couldn't accept it, but he couldn't mourn it either. Somehow he didn't even believe it and Sharon's attempts to talk to him about it didn't make it any easier. He looked over and saw the way her jaw was set. This was just the summit of his bad behavior recently, he thought. He'd shut her out, had refused to talk to her or even come out of his room, had blamed her for not telling him about his mother's presence in town. Sharon had explained her rationale to him a thousand times but it wasn't about the logic behind it, it wasn't even about Sharon. Deep down, he knew that she was just trying to help him, but he needed someone he could be angry with and Sharon was it. At times, it felt as if there were two people inside his head. The wounded creature that was dealing with the memories of the kidnapping and the death of his mother and the person he had gradually become before the kidnapping, the boy who loved Sharon and who cared for her well-being.

Sharon never showed any outward signs of being hurt by his behavior. Instead, she was taking it all rather stoically. It was Andy who was beginning to become a little more short-tempered with Rusty because he was giving her such a hard time. Just yesterday when he'd accompanied him to his meeting with DDA Hobbs, he'd pointed out his recent bad behavior. The sound of Sharon's phone startled him and she picked it up quickly, fumbling with the blue tooth headset, always following the rules.

"Lieutenant Provenza," she said in a firm voice. "How's our crime scene doing?" She listened to Provenza's reply and signaled to turn off the road and into her street. "I don't think I can make it this morning. Keep me informed, though. No. Don't worry, Lieutenant, I am perfectly fine. No. Tell Andy to stay right where he is, okay? I don't need help with this. Just tell him to bring walnut ice cream when he gets home. And I mean walnut. Not hazelnut again. Stop laughing."

She hung up and stopped in her usual spot, turning towards Rusty who felt vividly reminded of the time she'd dropped him off at home and had told him to think about giving her the respect she deserved. He thought of her at the Haunted House, of their watching movies together, of Sykes' wedding and their easy companionship over Virgin Coladas. Maybe it was the horrible hangover that was beginning to plague him, but he wanted nothing more than to hug her and tell her he was sorry.

"We'll go up there and you take a shower. Alternating between very hot and very cold water might help. Then we'll get some fluid into you. I want you to drink at least a whole pot of sweet tea. Eating something will probably help, too."

Rusty nodded groggily and followed her into the building, the elevator, the condo. When he stepped out of the shower, having followed her advice, he felt slightly more human. Brushing his teeth three times also relieved him of most of the horrible taste inside his mouth. Sharon was waiting for him on the couch with tea and sandwiches and watched silently while he ate and drank. The queasiness in his stomach was indeed settled slightly by the food and the heavily sweetened tea helped with the grogginess. As opposed to her usual behavior, Sharon wasn't trying to strike up a conversation today. She just sat next to him, looking out into the sky that was slowly turning orange over the hills in the distance. Finally, Rusty couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry," he said and she turned her head, unsurprised at what he was saying and waiting for him to continue. "I shouldn't have disobeyed you. I shouldn't have done all that."

He couldn't help it. He wasn't the least bit eloquent today. He couldn't explain it all because he didn't understand it himself.

"What happened?" Her voice was like a soft sigh. "We used to be so good together."

The kidnapping happened, Rusty thought. His mother's death happened. His head was filled with gruesome images that he could not chase away, his chest seemed strained with fear that wanted out like a roaring beast trapped inside a narrow cage, his thoughts were tangled and focused on only the darkness that was inhabiting his head nowadays, but he had no words to describe to Sharon what he was feeling.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "I just don't feel like I am myself anymore."

Sharon took off her glasses and placed them on the coffee table in front of her. "I never told you about that time before I joined FID, did I?" He didn't respond, just watched her intently as he knew that her question was rhetorical. What she was about to tell him was not something she'd forget telling someone about. "It was a beautiful summer's day just like today. Early morning like right now. I was a young sergeant and I was participating in an undercover mission. Nothing fancy, actually. Just a group of guys distributing drugs. My job was quite simple. I had to sit in with them during the bust, wearing a wire. Nobody suspected me and everything was going according to plan until one of the suspects panicked. He suddenly pulled out a gun we didn't even know he had and grabbed the closest person for leverage. That was me. Things spiraled out of control. I was pushed around and ended up pressed against a filthy wall, gun to my temple. It took my squad mates five minutes to sort out the situation and I got away with a few bruises and a broken ankle, but it took me weeks to be fit for duty again. I just felt so helpless, so useless. That man hurt me and he would have killed me like a piece of meat just because I was there. It felt as if there was only darkness surrounding me and I couldn't get out. I didn't get out of bed for days."

"How did you get better?" Rusty asked, yearning for a way to get the darkness out of him. Sharon smiled sadly.

"Barbara came over at some point and made me get up and see someone about it. I had skipped all the appointments with the counselor on the force that they make for you when you were caught in a stand-off. I didn't want to go because I thought I didn't know how to talk about it, but Barbara said she'd be happy for me to just sit around with the shrink for an hour and say nothing as long as I went."

Rusty could very well imagine Sharon giving someone the silent treatment for sixty minutes without even flinching.

"So did you? I mean, sit around and say nothing for an hour?"

Sharon shrugged. "I was very tempted, but those psychologists know how to do their job. They are trained to make you talk even when you think that you have nothing to contribute. I ended up saying quite a lot in those sixty minutes. It took me a few more appointments to actually feel better, but it worked. That's what trauma is all about, Rusty. You think that there's no one who understands you when that is not actually true. It's a vicious cycle I don't want you caught in."

Rusty nodded, suddenly eager to do anything to make up for the embarrassment he had brought her tonight.

"I'll think about it," he finally said, earning a nod and a warm hand on his arm.

"All you need to do now is get that poison out of your system. Would you like to get some sleep?"

Sleep was not something Rusty was looking forward to nowadays as it brought only nightmares and made him wake up screaming and covered in sweat.

"Can we just stay here?" he asked in a small voice, suddenly talking and feeling like a child. Sharon's face was relaxed now and she reached out her arms for him. For the first time in weeks he felt ready to follow her invitation and wrapped his own arms around her. For a moment they just held each other then Sharon placed a kiss on his forehead. She knew that he wasn't one for major displays of emotion, but he could still see that she was immensely relieved that the walls between them had once again crumbled down.

"Okay." She nodded and stuck her bottom lip out slightly as she did when she was nervous. "While we're here, I have something else to tell you."

"You're pregnant?" Rusty tried a little joke and was rewarded with a wide smile that turned into a little chuckle. She was very obviously glad that he was trying to return to his old ways with her and it made his heart feel lighter instantly. He had a lot to make up for. She sobered and ran her hand over his arm as if to try whether he'd draw back or not. Rusty didn't.

"I got your mothers things back from the crime lab yesterday and I found a receipt from a cafe near the treatment facility. I went there with Detective Sanchez and we found out whom she met the day before you were kidnapped." She took a deep breath, then swallowed, apparently reluctant to say the name. "It was my husband Charles."

* * *

**A/N**: An overly long chapter with lots of fluff in the beginning means you are legally obligated to review. It's somewhere in Sharon's rule book. :-P


	14. Chapter 14

**14**

"Your husband? Your husband met with my mother?" Rusty felt instantly ashamed that he was failing to keep his voice from rising up with every word so he made an effort to take a deep breath before he continued. "Do you think he was involved in my kidnapping?"

Sharon shook her head and pressed her lips together in a tight line, not meeting his eyes for a moment. "I am not sure," she finally confessed. "I have been thinking about it all night, but I simply don't know what to make of all this. Charles was never a good husband, but he wasn't a criminal either. Maybe he contacted her because of the trial. Or maybe-" She trailed off and he could see that she was biting the inside of her cheek.

"Maybe what?" he asked with sudden urgency. He knew her well enough to be able to tell that there was something she wanted to protect him from.

"Charles came here shortly after you were released from hospital, demanding money in exchange for a no-fault divorce. He knew about my baby and he tried to use it against me so I would take him up on his offer. He let slip that he has financial problems."

Rusty nodded, suddenly realizing what she was hinting at. "The ransom demand was pretty hefty, wasn't it? More than half a million dollars... Do you think he was in on it?"

Sharon shook her head again. "It is possible, of course, but I still can't believe it. He's the father of my children, after all."

Rusty felt sudden anger welling up but this time it wasn't directed at Sharon who'd been his target for the past few weeks. On the contrary, he found himself with the sudden urge to protect his foster mother and give Charles Graham a good beating.

"He came here to blackmail you because of your pregnancy, Sharon! Maybe you just don't know him anymore. Maybe his financial problems are serious enough to make him cross a certain line."

Sharon shrugged and Rusty could see that she was thoroughly uncomfortable discussing her husband's possible involvement in his kidnapping and his mother's death which made him even more grateful that she'd chosen to tell him about it in the first place. They hadn't spoken much lately at all and he couldn't blame her for keeping Charles' visit from him, but he was relieved she wasn't holding a grudge because he'd been using her as an emotional punching bag for weeks. Only now he realized that he hadn't looked at her properly for a while, either. He had barely noticed what she was wearing or the changes her body had gone through so now he felt compelled to take it all in at once. Her skin tone was much better than it had been at the beginning of her pregnancy when she'd been nauseous constantly and her face had lost its gauntness. The lines around her eyes were still there but somewhat less pronounced now, resulting in her looking younger. But most importantly - despite everything that was happening - she had a calm, content air about her, especially when Andy Flynn was around. The two of them were happy with each other despite their occasional differences and Rusty now finally felt able to put aside his still lingering fears and appreciate the fact that Andy's presence in Sharon's life was a good thing. Suddenly he realized that he didn't know anything about her pregnancy, having turned a deaf ear to her conversations with Andy and having ignored or even fought her attempts to include him.

"You are having a girl, aren't you?" he asked carefully, not sure how to approach the subject.

Sharon's answering smile was brighter than he had expected. "Yes."

"Is she okay?" Rusty asked. "I mean... you seem to have an awful lot of doctor's appointments."

Sharon chuckled. "Yes, she's okay. They monitor the pregnancy very closely because of my age and last week I had an amniocentesis done, too. We're lucky that she's completely healthy."

He remembered now how preoccupied she'd seemed just before her latest appointment and he felt guilty for having been standoffish about it.

"Where will she be sleeping?" he asked carefully, suddenly nervous as he was addressing a topic that had been weighing on his mind for a while. Sharon turned towards him and for a moment looked as if she was going to reach out for his hand.

"In my bedroom," she told him then crossed her arms in front of her chest and narrowed her eyes, staring into the distance as if she was pondering something. "The condo is going to get a little crowded, I have to admit." She looked at him from the corner of her eyes before she turned her head towards him in her typical Sharon Raydor manner. "What do you think? Are you okay with cramped quarters around here?"

"Sure, but I think that at some point she'll need a room where you can keep all the stuffed animals the squad will shower her with. Provenza's been ordering stuff off amazon all day at the office last week." Rusty felt suddenly lighthearted with relief at the thought that he was not about to be evicted from the former guest room he had come to consider his personal sanctuary.

Sharon growled. "He was supposed to finish reports. No wonder he's that behind on everything these days."

"Possibly two rooms, then." Rusty grinned. "By the way, have you bought anything for her yet?"

Sharon smiled somewhat proudly and Rusty wondered why she seemed to think it was such an accomplishment. "Yes, we did. I bought a baby blanket last week and Andy found a toy penguin that he liked."

"A penguin? What happened to good old-fashioned teddy bears?"

"He was about to buy a warthog, too, but I talked him out of it."

He shook his head. "So she'll have a blanket and an army of stuffed animals, but what is she going to wear? Aren't you keen on going shopping for her?"

Sharon nervously took off her glasses and replaced them on her nose, almost poking herself in the eye with the end of them, then finally glanced down at her stomach. She placed both hands on it as if to protect it from an invisible danger then shook her head and finally turned towards Rusty. He could see an amount of insecurity in her eyes that he couldn't remember ever having been there before. His throat suddenly felt dry when he realized that he had accidentally touched upon a very sensitive topic with her.

"I do," she said softly after what felt like an eternity. "As you may have noticed, I love shopping for clothes both for myself and for the people close to me."

Encouraged by her little attempt at humor, he gave her a conspiratorial grin. "Is that why Andy suddenly wears nice shirts?"

She nodded, grinning brightly. "And that is also why Provenza will come to own a couple of tasteful ties come Christmas. These two should not be allowed to go out shopping together." Her smile slowly faded and the slightly haunted expression replaced it far too early for Rusty's liking. "I am going to wait a while longer before I start buying things for her, though, because-" She hesitated for a moment and Rusty could see that it wasn't easy for her to talk about it. "There's a pretty high risk that something will happen along the line. Premature labor, for example. She's still so tiny and if she was born today, she wouldn't be able to make it. I have been trying to take good care of us, but she is still a little on the small side and I don't want to be stuck with all those reminders of her if I end up losing her. It would make it even more painful."

Rusty quickly reached out and held on to her arm as she was about to rise and leave the room to hide the tears from him that were already visible in her eyes. The surprised look at his touch was soon replaced with endearment and a little bit of fear.

"Rusty-" she began.

"It's okay, Sharon. I completely understand." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and when she opened them again, she looked a little more confident. He squeezed her arm, unsure what to say to her. There was a chance that she could lose the baby, there was no denying it, but he found himself hoping that she wouldn't. Sharon raised her hand to her face to furtively wipe away a stray tear that had managed to make it past her lashes then placed her hand over his and rose anyway.

"Speaking of reminders, I brought home some things for you." She walked towards the kitchen counter and picked up a box he hadn't noticed in his drowsy state. "It's your mother's things. I thought maybe you'd like to keep some of them." Placing the box on the coffee table in front of him, she hesitated for a moment. "Would you like some privacy while you go through them?"

Rusty shook his head, feeling as if someone had wrapped a heavy chain around his torso that was slowly squashing his heart. The air suddenly felt dry and stuffy inside his lungs and the thought of opening the patio doors as wide as possible fleetingly crossed his mind. He felt Sharon sit down next to him but he didn't turn towards her as she seemed to get that he wanted her present even though he felt unable to speak to her right now. The contents of the box were more organized and neat than his mother had ever been so he guessed that Sharon had either gone through them before or the crime lab had left them like this. Most of the clothes he recognized and his heart ached when random mental images of her wearing them came flying at him. His mother in the soft, now faded pink sweater making pancakes but then abandoning the pan to share a bottle of cheap vodka with her boyfriend of the month. Rusty on his own, pressing his face into an oversized t-shirt to inhale her scent when she had vanished for two days and he – only twelve years old – had wondered whether she would ever come back. And a happy memory of Sharon Beck, sober and off the drugs for two straight months, had taken him to the park wearing the gray sweater his fingertips were now brushing. He glanced at Sharon and saw the pained expression in her eyes. She was suffering right here with him and the notion gave him more comfort than he had ever thought possible.

He went through the rest of his mother's worldly possessions and discovered half a bottle of the cheap drugstore perfume she'd always worn, a battered watch he remembered and an old novel she had always held on to despite the fact that she was everything but an avid reader. It was special to her, but he had never asked her why. Now he wouldn't be able to. His hands were suddenly shaking violently at the realization. His mother wasn't just gone, out there, having abandoned him. She was dead in the ground, gone forever and she would never come back. All the hopes of a better life with her he had been holding on to, all his fantasies of her cleaning up and coming back to care for him like a real mother did were just as dead as she was. He had banned all those thoughts from his mind, had managed to confine them to an inaccessible place inside his heart where he stored all the feelings he felt unable to deal with. Now looking at the familiar fabrics, the smallness of her socks, the poor state of the little jewelry she had owned and that mysterious book, her death suddenly turned from an intangible idea into a painful reality. The inanimate objects that had always reminded him of how little they had and of how she had never managed to make a life for herself or for him, her son, now held a sudden value, made his heart bleed. He looked at her things and suddenly found himself assigning certain qualities to them. That dear sweater, the cute watch, the loved book. All were small reminders of her in general and of specific moments with her in particular. Moments that were in the past, moments that could never be recreated, moments that might have not been pleasant but had involved his mother. He remembered snuggling up to her as a small child, he remembered her smiles at good results at school, he remembered the softness of her hands and the sound of her laughter. Life with Sharon Beck hadn't been easy, but she would always be the woman who had given birth to him, whom he had been living with for most of his life.

Rusty only noticed the tears falling down his cheeks when Sharon's arm came up around his shoulders and she stretched out the other to offer an embrace that he willingly leaned into without the need for further encouragement. Her cardigan was soft underneath his cheek and it held the scent of her that he had come to think of as the most comforting thing he could imagine. Clinging to her, he once again wondered how her shoulders could possibly be so narrow. She always seemed larger than life in her business suits, but even though she was reasonably tall, she was actually a rather petite woman. She didn't talk, didn't bother with false affirmations that everything would be okay but held him instead, tight enough to make him feel her arms around him but not tight enough to stifle the sobs that were rocking his body. She knew he had to cry and she was supporting him while he did so instead of trying to stop his tears. Somehow, Rusty realized, fate had thrown another mother in his way. One that he was not related to by blood, but who loved him and somehow always managed to do the right thing. She wasn't Sharon Beck and having her here didn't help his pain over his loss, but he was still incredibly glad to have her.

He didn't know how long he had been crying for but his sobs finally subsided and he felt sleepy against Sharon's chest, her hands running up and down his back in soothing, gentle motions. He listened to her calm breathing for a while and tried to match the pace of his to hers. Finally, when his tears had dried on his cheeks and his heartbeat was back to normal, he straightened up and found all of Sharon's barriers down and her eyes filled with emotion.

"Do you think she ever loved me?" he blurted out suddenly and without having ever planned to say anything like it. When he heard the words tumble from his own lips, however, he knew instinctively that it was exactly what he had been subconsciously wondering about for weeks.

Sharon had to clear her throat before she spoke. "I didn't know your mother very well, Rusty, but I am sure she loved you."

"She abandoned me at a zoo!" He had said and thought the words so often, but it still hurt him impossibly to hear them. His voice was still unsteady and a part of him hated himself for his weakness.

Sharon nodded. "I know, Rusty, but your mother was a very troubled person with her mind clouded by drugs. In many ways she was still the child she was when she got pregnant with you. I don't think that any of that meant that she didn't love you."

He nodded slowly, her words oddly comforting. "She was a bad mother, wasn't she?" he asked wearily. From the reluctant look in Sharon's eyes he could tell that she wasn't comfortable speaking ill of his mother in front of him but she nodded anyway.

"She was by all means, Rusty. But-" Her face lit up for a second and she reached for her handbag that she had discarded next to the couch earlier. She dug around inside it for a moment and then took out her wallet inside which she had placed a faded old photograph that she now handed over to him. "I found this among her things and I didn't want it to suffer any more damage so I decided to keep it safe for you."

Rusty turned the picture around and looked at his mother in a yellow sundress he didn't remember, her hair much fuller and glossier than he'd ever seen it, her eyes bright and happy. She was holding on to the toddler in front of her with one hand spread over his chest to steady him and he was almost shocked to see a wild, glorious smile on his own face. There had been good times, he had to remind himself. The time she'd brought home a container of ice-cream they had shared telling each other stories. The month she had been single and working as a waitress at a burger shop in town where he would go every day after school and have a real meal. The one time she had taken him to the beach with a meager picnic of bananas and crackers and they had splashed around in the waves for hours until they both had sunburn on their shoulders and noses. Maybe turning over all those moments in his head to find out whether she had loved him was pointless, Rusty thought. It was just another thing he would never know for sure. Maybe it was something he had to accept.

"I miss her," he admitted, his voice as tight as his chest.

"I know, honey. I know." Sharon sounded just as sad as he did and he looked up to see a rueful smile on her face. "None of this is your fault, Rusty. Always remember that, okay? And whatever you do and however pesky your behavior is, you are loved. Very very much."

That, Rusty knew. He had always known but he hadn't trusted his own rotten luck enough to actually admit to himself that he had found someone who would always keep him safe.

* * *

Sharon Raydor was beginning to think that she needed a vacation and not just a few days off work to relax at home but a trip to somewhere else. Before everything had gone to hell, she had been planning on taking Rusty and Andy to her mother's place near Salt Lake City for two weeks. Susan Raydor lived in a spacious old summerhouse on the outskirts of a small town, surrounded by a beautiful garden that hosted a pond whose cool, clear water Sharon was now desperately longing for. She closed her eyes and imagined herself on a towel on the soft slope that led towards the small pine forest in the back of the garden, the sunlight on her face and the fresh air in her lungs. Instead she was stuck in Buzz's windowless media room with a headache that wouldn't go away and feet that were killing her inside her pointed shoes. She longed to kick them off but she didn't want to show her team any more weakness than she already had over the previous weeks.

The baby moved beneath her gentle touch, probably aware of its mother's nervousness, and she sighed uncomfortably. Her team, too, had picked up on her unusual jumpiness and everyone seemed to be in a funk ever since she had announced the forthcoming arrival of Charles Graham who had been summoned to the offices of the Major Crimes division not as an attorney but as a person of interest, if not a possible suspect. Sharon had not told her children about his involvement in the case yet and a very adamant part of her hoped that he would turn out to be perfectly innocent. Even in her most vulnerable moments Sharon followed the rules so she had asked Tao and Sanchez to interview Charles as her own involvement was legally restricted to her acting as a mere observer. She had pondered whom to send into the interview room for quite a while unable to sleep the night before. Andy was completely out of the question as with his temper he would probably start a shouting match the moment he first laid eyes on her vindictive husband. Sykes was too young and too inexperienced to be a match for the vastly manipulative Charles. Tao and Sanchez, on the other hand, seemed to be a good match as Sanchez could be hot-headed and intimidating while he wasn't as personally involved as Flynn but Tao would manage to calm him down if necessary and keep a level head.

She had deliberately sent Sykes and Andy out on an errand related to their other current case so that they would be out of the building for a while and so she was alone with Buzz and Provenza whose laid-back attitude she took great comfort in. Over the last few months, he had become a steady presence in her private life which still confused her when she thought back to the adversary relationship they had shared not too long ago. Since Andy had given up his own place to live with her, Provenza was now a regular visitor to her condo and she found it more comfortable than she would have ever believed possible. Provenza, too, seemed to settle into their new friendship easily and she found him now fiercely protective of her and her baby whenever Flynn was not around. It wasn't necessary as Sharon was quite capable of taking care of herself, but his changed attitude towards her endeared her enough to indulge him now and then. His displays of affection were still subtle, though, and to the casual onlooker he remained the same disgruntled old man who liked to push his boss's buttons whenever he could. Even that somehow helped her now and she had to hide a smile at his exasperated comment:

"Good god, Raydor, keep your feet still, you're making me nervous."

Sharon answered with a low growl that - to Provenza's now trained ear - sounded playful instead of threatening. She could tell from the surprised look on Buzz's face, however, that he was mistaking her reaction for genuine annoyance. She took a sip of water and stared at the screen, willing Tao, Sanchez and her husband to finally enter the room. Thinking of him as the man she was still married to made her nauseous with anger. A week after his unexpected visit to her condo they had met in the presence of Barbara and Charles's highly-polished divorce attorney who had done his very best to stall any attempt to find an amicable solution. Nobody had ever directly asked her to make an offer but it was still clear to her that Charles was waiting for her to name a number to finally get rid of him. Since she refused to do so, her only option seemed to be to battle it out in court. Barbara had confirmed that - from a legal perspective - she had nothing to fear but she was still worried that the divorce proceedings would take a lot of time she didn't feel she had. Barbara had also assured her that Charles would be unable to use his legal parenthood against her as a simple paternity test would easily disprove it, but she felt thoroughly uncomfortable at the thought of not being free of her old ties before giving birth to Flynn's child. Although he never said anything about it, she knew that her marital status was bothering him, too, and she wished she could just end it all and start anew.

Sharon could feel her hands begin to tremble very slightly when the door opened and Charles walked in, hands in the pockets of his expensive trousers. Armani, she guessed, the affinity for which was one of the few things they still had in common. Her throat felt dry with anticipation. What if he turned out to be entangled in the complicated web that was the Sharon Beck case? What if he was a killer? What if he had willingly contributed to Rusty's abduction? She didn't want to imagine the look Taylor would give her if her husband turned out to be the main suspect in a case he didn't think was worth pursuing in the first place.

"Buzz, don't you have some kind of candy for the Captain?" Provenza asked. "She needs to calm down."

"Lieutenant, please!" Sharon knew that Buzz strongly disapproved of the fact that everyone always helped themselves to his stash and besides that she really didn't feel like eating. "I don't need anything."

"Always calmed the Chief down," Provenza mumbled in one of the now rather rare reminders that the division had once been led by someone else. Sharon sat up straight and schooled her features in an effort to gather her bearings and clasped her hand around the trusty old pen and notepad she had used to use back in FID. Usually there was no time to jot down details in Major Crimes, but today she needed something to busy her hands and keep her mind focused.

Charles looked attractive and highly professional in his suit and tie, his eyes bright and alert. Sharon had seen them dulled with alcohol so often that it was almost an unusual sight to see him sober like this. His left hand atop his right one, he was sitting across Tao and Sanchez as if he didn't have a care in the world but somehow still managed not to look smug. His expression didn't falter when Tao explained their findings to him and asked him why he had been there meeting Sharon Beck in the first place. Sharon's insides churned when her husband took the time to sip his water before he answered.

"As you are probably aware of, I represent Philip Stroh in his murder trial. Sharon Beck is the mother of the prosecution's material witness. Therefore I am not at liberty to discuss why I needed to speak to her. It is covered by client privilege."

A small groan escaped Sharon's lips. Attorneys always cited client privilege to evade questions and she hated being outsmarted by the precious rules she was always the first to enforce.

"Sharon Beck was involved in the kidnapping of her own son, Mr Graham," Sanchez said in a low, dangerous voice. "She ended up dead and we are very much wondering whether you could have anything to do with her untimely demise."

Charles shook his head and spread out his hands, his face expressionless. "I can assure you that is not the case. I was there on business. We talked, I left."

The security tape was somewhat grainy and Ronnie and Charles had huddled over their coffees so that there was no use in bringing anyone in to read their lips. Sharon had already verified that none of the people sitting at the tables close to theirs were regular costumers, so even the off-chance that somebody had overheard them and still remembered it was useless to them. She thought back to the anguished tears Rusty had shed for his mother the previous day and almost broke her pencil with anger. She owed it to the boy to find out who had killed his mother. Come what may.

"Did Miss Beck say anything to you about her plans? Did she tell you anything that could be related to her death?"

Charles shook his head regretfully, his eyes slightly unfocused and therefore indicating that he was still pondering the question.

"She said that things were looking up for her," he finally told Tao, purposefully ignoring Sanchez. "She was a bit secretive about that. Told me that she could be reached on her cell phone, not the clinic. That made me wonder because they take your phone away at this sort of facility. Or so I have heard."

Sharon snorted as she was aware that Charles knew so from his very own experience.

"There wasn't a cell phone on the body, was there?" Sharon asked Provenza although there was technically no need to as all the details of the case had burned themselves into her memory.

"Nope." Provenza didn't need to consult the case file in front of him either. "You went to interview the staff with Andy, didn't you? Did you get around to requesting the personal items they confiscated?"

Sharon honestly didn't remember through the haze that had been those painful days. "I don't know," she said tentatively and before she could ask him to, the older man offered to follow up on it. Sharon remained alone with Buzz, feeling inadequate. The interview wasn't going anywhere and Tao was just asking routine questions now. What was she going to tell Rusty? Despite the fact that he had opened up to her the previous day, there was still a deep fear inside her that he would withdraw again if she took a wrong step. Her stomach growled and reminded her that she had missed lunch. Immersed in her thoughts, she gasped, startled, when a packet of twizzlers appeared directly in front of her. Buzz was holding it out with a bored look on his face, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his true intentions.

"Don't tell anyone," he said simply when she accepted the candy and found herself enjoying it more than she had thought possible at that very moment.

On the screen, Tao was thanking Charles for coming in and Sanchez was giving him the usual line about calling if he could come up with anything useful. Before they could escort him out, however, Charles angled his head slightly, now almost looking at the hidden camera he knew was there.

"Tell my wife I said hello," he told no one in particular in his rich, silky tones. "I hope her baby is well."

Sharon recognized a reminder of his blackmail when she saw one and slammed the rest of her twizzler down on to the table with a little too much force, making Buzz jump.

"Sorry," she murmured, embarrassed. "But this case is full of dead ends and then it is so close to home on so many levels."

The door opened again and an excited Provenza stuck his head into the media room. "I just got off the phone. Apparently Sharon Beck's cell phone didn't get turned over with her other things because the staff didn't think of it. I am going to swing by and pick it up right away. Do you care for a drive?"

**A/N**: I am amazed at how well my little quip with Sharon's rule book worked. :-D Thank you so much for your many reviews. I love them! So much. *squeals with flailing arms* Okay. Sorry.


	15. Chapter 15

**15**

**A/N**: Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. I was a VERY blocked writer lately! Or maybe I just don't want the story to end and we're definitely getting closer to it. Thank you so much to everyone who is along for the ride! :)

Lunch in one hand and the requested report from the crime lab in the other, Andy Flynn was too engrossed in the DNA-results of the hair found on their latest victim to pay attention to who was in the elevator area with him until he was addressed by his rank. Raising his head, he tensed immediately at the sight of Charles Graham who looked as charming and as insufferable as ever. Andy froze where he stood and slowly lowered the hand holding the file, doing his best to look equal parts menacing and nonchalant. Charles strode over towards the elevator and pushed the button, pretending to watch the changing numbers above it but Flynn wasn't fooled. He knew that he was being seized.

"How's my wife these days?" the other man asked. "She sent in her men to question me instead of doing it herself. I hope that doesn't mean she is on bed rest or otherwise incapacitated?"

"No," Flynn growled, unwilling to give him information but also irrationally eager to let him know that Sharon was safe with him. He remembered how restless she'd been the previous night, how she'd been tossing and turning in bed until he had pulled her against his chest to keep her from winding herself up. Sharon didn't like to hear it, but Flynn was worried about her and the fact that her husband was insinuating that something was wrong with her infuriated him a lot more than it should have.

"Well, that's good to hear," Charles said in a tone that sounded almost perfectly genuine. "Pregnancy was always a little hard on her, I remember. I don't imagine it to be any easier now - at her age."

Flynn's patience was thinning and he felt the edge of the file digging into his palm as he held on tightly to it in a vain attempt to contain his anger. He forced himself to speak calmly. "As far as I know, having a cheating, drinking and gambling husband was what made it hard for her."

Charles smiled rather kindly and Andy knew instinctively that he had been set up by the calculating lawyer across from him.

"You would know, wouldn't you? With a history like yours? Former alcoholic, huh? How is your relationship with your kids these days, Andy? Still picking up the pieces?"

Andy closed his eyes briefly and the rapidly receding, still rational part of his brain wondered how Charles could possibly know all that. Soon, however, his thoughts were overtaken by unspeakable fury. He was aware of the fact that he hadn't been a good father, that he had let his wife and his children down because he'd always been more interested in the bottle. He had been trying to make amends for the past fifteen years and to some extent it had worked out. Still he was painfully aware of the fact that due to the precious years he'd lost while his world was revolving around alcohol and his mind and heart were dulled by it, his relationship with his children was okay, but not nearly as close as it could have been. Charles had just hit him where it hurt the most, had confronted him with his biggest regret and he was so angry that the world around him seemed to blur, his sole focus on the smug man standing in front of him.

"That is none of your business!" Clenching his teeth still helped but he knew that it would take only one more mean comment to set him off and make him lose it completely. He was already struggling to control his breathing and he could see that Charles knew exactly what he was doing.

"Oh, it actually is. See, you're living with my wife. You regularly see my kids." Andy desperately tried to keep his hands from trembling with anger.

"I need to go," he said brusquely then turned to leave but Charles' next comment made him freeze in his tracks.

"Sharon deserves better than the likes of you and you know what? She thinks so, too. Wonder why you're still living in that small condo of hers. Does she, by any chance refuse to talk about buying a house? Because I know my Sharon even after all these years. She has doubts and she's afraid to tell you."

Andy felt as if he'd just been struck by lighting and slowly turned around again, looking at the other man with horror and astonishment. For the second time in minutes he had managed to hit home by playing on his greatest fears. Although Sharon had asked him to move in with her, she was still reluctant to make any other permanent arrangements. Even his attempts to prepare for the baby's arrival were regularly shot down. Andy couldn't help but wonder whether Sharon was unsure about their relationship. Before he knew it, he was as Charles' throat like a raging animal, hands grabbing his shoulders as hard as he possibly could to slam him into the wall behind him. The other man seemed to have anticipated the attack as he didn't budge but pushed Andy backwards instead. For a moment, they were struggling silently, muscles straining and teeth grinding, then Charles got the upper hand and punched Andy hard in the chest, causing him to stumble several steps backwards and crash into someone. He could see his own horror mirrored in his opponent's face when there was a shocked female yelp and the sound of heels skidding on the floor.

Charles dropped his arms and Andy whirled around to find Provenza tending to Sharon who had wrapped one of her arms protectively around her belly. His heart began to race with dread and concern but then skipped a beat with relief when he found Provenza rubbing his shoulder with a pained expression. It seemed that he had managed to get himself between Sharon and them before she could be harmed. She nodded at Provenza and he let go of her shoulder so she could straighten her jacket and adjust her glasses.

"Sharon, are you alright?" Flynn knew he needed to ask, needed to make sure he hadn't hurt her. Crashing into his pregnant girlfriend while fighting her husband over the accusation that she really didn't want to be with him was about as terrible as it got.

"I'm fine." Sharon's voice sounded cold and sharp enough to cut glass. "Lieutenant Provenza and I are heading out. Go back to your desk."

"Sharon-" he began but she silenced him by making a cutting motion with her flat hand. Her behavior reminded him of how she acted during arguments with Rusty when she pointed towards the Murder Room. "Go."

He understood that right now she was Captain Raydor and he was Lieutenant Flynn and he had to obey her orders if he didn't want to get into even more trouble. That, however, didn't mean that he had to like it. Without another word he walked towards the door, purposefully fumbling with his key card to be able to eavesdrop on what she was saying to Charles.

"Quite a hothead you got yourself there." Charles' dry remark made him want to turn around and deck him but he was smarter than that.

"You need to leave." Sharon's voice was low with anger and when her husband started to say something else she cut him off unceremoniously, thereby providing Andy with spitefulness. "Now."

* * *

"Take them off already," Provenza growled through his teeth, his gaze safely fixed on to the road in front of him as if he hadn't been staring at her attempts to maneuver her feet into a position that would minimize the pain. "I won't tell anyone."

With a relieved sigh she slipped the offensive pumps off her feet and leaned back in her seat, her eyes falling closed almost immediately. She applied some pressure where she had last felt her daughter and was rewarded with a small kick against her palm.

"Barefoot and pregnant." Provenza grinned triumphantly which made her roll her eyes in turn.

"You were setting me up for that joke, weren't you?"

"You walked right into my little trap there!" Provenza looked a little too happy with himself for her liking and so she gave him a pointed glare before she reached out and stroked his arm lightly. "Thank you for reacting so quickly on your feet. I don't think it would have been beneficial to have Andy shoved on top of me."

Provenza clicked his tongue, apparently unimpressed by her affectionate touch and gratitude. "And there I was under the impression that you quite liked Andy on top of you."

Sharon wasn't one for sexual innuendo but she was always amused by the disgusted expression on Provenza's face whenever someone dared to hint at the fact that she and his best friend had an intimate relationship. "Who says he gets to be on top?"

Provenza shot her a scandalized glare and hit the steering wheel. "Stop it, will you!"

"Ah, sorry. I didn't realize you were allowed to discuss my sex life while I was not."

Provenza grumbled in response to then quickly change the topic. "Quite a piece of work, your husband."

She grimaced. "I prefer calling him my future ex-husband, actually."

"I'm sure he provoked Flynn. He has a temper but he would know better than to attack him without a good reason."

"He should know better than to attack him at all," Sharon said pointedly.

Provenza chuckled. "Bet you're not used to two men fighting about you."

"Actually," Sharon was beginning to enjoy their easy banter. "I do. When I was in high school, two boys beat each other up about who was allowed to carry my books."

She was answered by a snort. "Maybe, but that was roughly sixty years ago."

Sharon rolled her eyes at his habit to completely exaggerate her age and took a moment to look out the window to gather her thoughts. Although she strongly disagreed with Flynn's reckless behavior, she wasn't as angry with him as she should have been. Charles had a knack for getting under people's skins and she was sure that he had somehow managed to use his perfect intuition and habit to investigate to set him off somehow. She just hoped that Flynn's attack on Charles hadn't constituted some ridiculous quest to defend her honor. Her phone chirped and when she checked the screen, she found Rusty's first text message since before his abduction, asking whether she would be home for dinner. A smile made its way across her face. Maybe things weren't quite as bleak as she'd previously thought.

Twenty minutes later they breezed past Flynn in the Murder Room and Sharon, the sealed plastic bag with Ronnie Beck's phone in hand, snapped down the blinds in her office, effectively cutting her and Provenza off from the outside world. The white-haired lieutenant crossed his arms and dropped his body into the chair opposite Sharon's desk.

"How long are you going to keep up the shunning of Andy Flynn?"

Sharon rolled her eyes and gestured to her side of the the desk, basically ignoring his question. Provenza got up and noisily dragged his chair around the desk in order to sit next to her. She opened the plastic bag and retrieved a shiny new iphone. Pointedly raising her brows, she looked up at Provenza.

"Why would a woman like Ronnie Beck have an expensive phone like that?"

"That's strange indeed," Provenza agreed. "With that drug habit of hers she could barely afford decent clothes. I don't see how this fits in the picture."

The display came to life at the pressing of a button and Provenza let out an audible groan when they were asked to enter a PIN-code.

"Great. That one will go straight to tech support then."

"Why so pessimistic, Lieutenant? We've got three tries." Sharon typed in a string of numbers but to no avail, pursing her lips. "Rusty's date of birth doesn't work." She entered another and clicked her tongue triumphantly when multiple icons filled the screen. "Everybody uses their date of birth."

Provenza snorted. "Your impeccable powers of deduction are probably why they made you Captain."

He watched her check for messages and e-mail, looking at the screen over her glasses, her eyes narrowed in concentration. He could see why she was angry with Flynn for getting into a fistfight with her husband, but he really didn't like it when they were at odds with each other. Funny, he thought. The last time he'd been so eager to reconcile another couple had been when his parents had spent their days fighting in lieu of getting divorced. These two were so different, so in love with each other that it was always a shame when they clashed over something that was ultimately as meaningless as this. Her eyes narrowed even more and her head snapped up to look at him.

"Would you mind getting a few sandwiches at the deli around the corner? I'm famished." She bit her lip like she always did when she was trying to wrap him around her finger. It was something that had curiously worked even at the very beginning of her time at Major Crimes when he had still hated her with a passion.

"Little Miss Flynn hungry in there?"

Sharon grimaced slightly at the quip but played along to humor him, giving him a little smile. That was when he knew that something was wrong, that she wanted rid of him quite desperately.

"What's on that phone that you don't want me to see?" he inquired sharply to which she looked annoyed but not surprised. After all, they had come to know each other quite well. Reluctantly, Sharon held out the screen for him to look at.

"E-Mails. Lots of them. To and from my husband." She swallowed, clearly uncomfortable. "And from what I could tell at first glance, there's a lot of personal stuff about me in there."

Provenza crinkled his forehead. "It's evidence, Sharon. There's no use in sending me away. We're all bound to find out about it at some point anyway."

She nodded, lips pressed together firmly. "Of course, but I need a chance to look at it first so I know what people around here will come to know about me."

Provenza knew perfectly well that Sharon would rather have everyone know intimate details about her life than break the rules and delete e-mails that could be evidence, but he recognized an opportunity to reunite momentarily star-crossed lovers when he saw one.

"I can't let you examine sensitive evidence that concerns you all by yourself. You need someone with you to make sure you don't make a poor spur of the moment decision."

"Lieutenant, you know that I would never-"

Provenza played dumb. "No, I don't. My suggestion is to check it out along with Andy. He already knows your favorite sexual position, so-"

"Provenza!"

He couldn't keep himself from chuckling. "Sorry. I'll go get him."

She didn't protest even though she probably knew that Andy was a lot more likely to get rid of evidence than she was and he left with a grin on his face when Andy stumbled into the room, looking a little apprehensive. He followed Sharon's invitation and sat down in the chair Provenza had just vacated when she turned her head towards the sound of the door being closed from outside, obviously not in a hurry to look at him again. She straightened up a little, her hands on the armrests of her office chair and shifted to make herself more comfortable then handed the phone over to him.

"This is Ronnie's phone. There are no text messages on it and apparently there was only one person she exchanged e-mails with. They go back to before she was even admitted into the institution. Provenza doesn't trust me not to delete any of them as at least some of them seem to contain information about me going back and forth."

Andy accepted the iphone and brought the screen to life, scrolling through the e-mails. "There's a lot of them. Do you want me to read them to you?"

She leaned back in her chair and squeezed her eyes shut, looking so uncomfortable that Andy wondered whether she was in physical pain for a moment. Then, however, he realized that she was just nervous and already embarrassed. No wonder she didn't want Provenza to see. They had grown closer but not that close by far. Andy was just glad she wanted him around after everything that had happened. Right now, he knew instinctively, was not the moment to talk to her about his confrontation with Charles Graham, so he opened the first e-mail instead.

"_Phone's working. Connection is good_," he read. "_Like the hotel. Fancy place._"

Charles' reply was short and clipped and contained no spelling mistakes or typos – which he soon found out could not be said about Ronnie's messages.

"_Be at the station tomorrow at 7 and don't be late. I have a feeling tomorrow is the day. - CG._"

He looked over at Sharon but her eyes were still closed and her hands were massaging her temples. If it was one of those stress migraines coming up, he knew he had to get her home as quickly as possible as those headaches made her both nauseous and impossibly cranky.

"Go on," she said softly, still not opening her eyes. Andy longed to reach out and touch her but he knew that he was here as a very delicate mixture between her partner and her most trusted squad member. Treating her like the woman he loved would break their fragile truce immediately, so some professionalism was in order.

"_She had me committed!_" he read, raising his voice slightly at the sight of the many exclamation marks. "_Says I need to clean up before I can see Rusty! I did what you told and went along with it but now you gotta get me out of this shit hole!_"

Sharon's eyes finally flew open and she reached out for his hand then stopped herself, her fingertips brushing his skin ever so lightly before she drew back. "When were those e-mails sent?"

He held the phone out for her to see and she covered her mouth with her hand. "Andy, that first date was when I met her at the hospital. _Today's the day_?" Their eyes finally met and he saw horror in hers. "Was I set up?"

He shook his head. "Are you sure it's the right date?"

She laughed humorlessly, placing her hand against her swollen stomach. "It was the day I found out that I was pregnant, after all. Thought you'd remember it well, too, as it was the same day you almost hyperventilated and I had to get you a wet cloth to keep you from passing out."

He wondered whether she considered that day the point in time when her life had changed irrevocably, when she had been tied to someone she wouldn't have otherwise stayed with, but the small smile that was suddenly playing on her lips told him otherwise. "February 25, 1990. That's when I found out about Laura. And about James on March 2nd 1992. My mind works in crazy ways like that. Can you believe that I almost always forgot about my wedding anniversary with Charles?"

He grinned, a little relieved. "It's astonishing that you're able to remember numbers well when you're so bad with names."

"I don't know what you mean, Lieutenant Fringe," she deadpanned.

He chuckled and lifted the phone back up. "Ready for another round?"

"Never ready," Sharon sighed. "but please go ahead."

"_Stay put. Try to be nice. Think of the reward._"

He snorted, hesitating before he read Ronnie's response aloud: "_She is one annoying bitch that Sharon Raydor. Can't believe Rusty hasn't run away from her yet. Guess she bribes him with stuff. You're right, she's filthy rich. I got a sweet little piece of info for you there but I ain't spilling until you hand over the two grand._" He looked over at Sharon. "Are you alright?"

She folded her arms in front of her chest. "What? Do you expect me to cry over being called names? Please. I am more than used to it."

Andy shrugged and turned to Graham's reply: "_You know I can't give you any money right now. It will have to wait until you are not confined to that place anymore. My wife will be notified of any visitors._" He scrolled down towards Ronnie's reply that very obviously lacked even the most basic punctuation, making it almost a pain to read. "_Whatever. She's knocked up. Overheard those nurses at the ER. They don't think she'll be able to carry it til the end, though. Old as she is, she's probably gonna lose it at some point._"

Sharon's face was completely unreadable and so Andy went on, as much as he hated to. "_Good work. Keep it up._" The messages that followed provided a detailed recounting of the meetings of the two Sharons, handing over each and every tiny piece of information Ronnie had gathered on Sharon and her life with Rusty. The fact that she had been picked up by "_some rather hot silver fox_" which had to be him, information on what Rusty was doing, how he was dealing with everything, details on a phone call Ronnie had been eavesdropping on and a lot of cursing and name-calling when it came to Rusty's foster mother. There was nothing of consequence there, but then Sharon had always been very guarded around her namesake. He stopped midway through when he saw that Sharon was massaging her temples again.

"Migraine?" he asked sympathetically but she just shook her head, looking a little out of it.

"No. I'm just trying to make sense of this. Charles wanted Ronnie to come into contact with me because he wanted information on me and maybe on Rusty. But what kind exactly? And why? This doesn't make any sense."

"No, it doesn't." Andy shook his head. "This is devious, Sharon. I don't know what exactly he was up to but it feels sinister."

"I might want to sleep with my gun under my pillow from now on."

He grinned at her dark humor then reached out to brush her cheek with his palm and test out how she would react. Sharon did not draw away but leaned into his touch and placed her hand on top of his instead. Only then he realized that she was trembling.

"Are you okay?"

"It's nothing," she replied, her voice hoarse. "Don't worry about it."

Andy wasn't completely convinced but as she still had her snark and sarcasm, he decided that it could not be that bad.

"I know it's hard for you. All that happened with Rusty, the divorce and now this. You deserve better and we'll make sure things will be sorted, okay? Everything will be fine."

Sharon shook her head with a sad smile. "Fine? I don't see how. Even if we manage to get to the bottom of this, there is still a chance I will have to tell my children that their father is a murderer or at least a kidnapper." Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes to calm herself. "I think I need some water. Could you get me some, please?"

Andy could see that she needed a minute to calm herself in order to retain her usual collected state and he had come to respect that there were moments when being alone benefited her more than being with him.

"I will. And I'll also find out whether Provenza has bought us lunch yet. I'll be back in a minute."

She nodded, one hand holding on to the desk. "Thank you."

Out in the Murder Room, Andy found four pairs of eyes trained on his face. The tension in the room was almost palpable. Everyone knew that the case was closing in on the Captain when nobody had believed that it could get even more personal. Charles Graham's involvement was a mystery and the circumstances of Rusty's abduction were, too. They had all become cops not only because they wanted to serve and protect their community, but also because they liked to crack mysteries, liked to unravel them and fit each clue into the mosaic that would be the exquisite riddle's solution. Chasing down a murderer boosted adrenaline and always brought a sort of thrill and ultimately satisfaction that managed to make up for the gruesome images and the thoughts of innocent victims and grieving families. This time, however, he could see in his colleagues' faces that the thrill was absent. They all just wished for this to be over so they could go about their lives again, so Sharon could go about her life again.

Provenza stopped him on his way to the break room. "What was on that phone?" he asked and Andy could tell that everyone was paying close attention. He owed the others an answer.

"Her husband had Sharon Beck spy on her and Rusty. We're not sure why."

"So he could really be the killer?" Tao asked wearily.

Andy just nodded, feeling tired and drained. His chest was aching from the rather hard shove Charles Graham had given him. Could he be called violent? If so, then so could he as he had been the one to attack in the first place. He left a silent group of people behind while painfully aware of their subdued expressions and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. His gaze wandered towards the table in the corner where he and Sharon had talked about her marriage for the first time when they'd been trapped here months ago. It seemed like a lifetime ago when things had been easy and new. He wanted those days back that hadn't held all the darkness and the insecurity. Turning on his heel, he walked back into Sharon's office, bracing himself for another round of nasty messages by Ronnie Beck.

"Sharon, I-"

The bottle crashed to the floor and rolled there, water seeping into the carpet, when Andy Flynn lunged towards the still form of Sharon Raydor by the desk.

* * *

He'd never really gotten used to the East Coast and the cold winters, but he had eventually discovered that it was the transition from winter into spring that he hated the most. The gray skies, the heavy clouds and the constant fog depressed him and made him long for Los Angeles. Maybe he would go back there now that he was about to give up his life here. The sun he certainly missed. He turned away from the window and looked around the once stately office. Now the carpets were about to be torn out and his meager belongings were stored away in boxes. Old files, mostly. It was funny how decades of a working life could be fit in just one cardboard box. What a cliché.

His cell phone rang and he picked it up, not recognizing the number.

"Graham?"

A distant yet familiar voice greeted him and he didn't need to rummage around his memory for long to recognize the silky tones of his old adversary from law school.

"Hello, Philipp. How's the food in prison?"

The voice at the other end of the line was hoarse and sounded older than he remembered.

"Not as good as in the soup kitchen, I imagine. Lucky you, as it is where you will end up if you continue going through the rest of your money at this rate."

Charles stared at the calendar on his desk, next to the dusty place where his computer screen had once sat. April 21. Only a few days until he would be evicted from the office.

"I didn't think you'd use your phone calls to gloat," he said tiredly to which Stroh responded with a small chuckle.

"I don't, Charly. I don't. I have a deal to offer you. One I am sure you won't refuse."

Charles had hit rock bottom a while ago so he just leaned back in his chair and rested his foot against the edge of the mahogany desk. "Let's hear it then."

* * *

"Mrs Raydor is resting comfortably," the nurse said stubbornly and Andy felt ready to either throw his hands in the air in despair or strangle her. He took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm himself down. Throwing a fit would not help him, he could tell from the woman's narrowed eyes and prim attire. She didn't like him and she would certainly not fall for his charms. He knew that she would have him out on his ass if he raised his voice again.

"But how is she?" he practically begged. "Is her baby alright?"

The nurse signed off on a chart and tossed it aside, pulling another folder near. "Are you next of kin?" she asked, looking at him over thin, rimless spectacles that gave her face a sharp, unsympathetic edge.

"No, but I'm the baby's father," he explained, feeling exasperated. Sharon hadn't woken up on the way to the hospital and he could feel panic overtake him as well as guilt for leaving her on her own in the first place.

The nurse looked up with a condescending smirk, clearly enjoying what she was about to do. "You're confusing me, sir. It says in the chart that she is married."

"Separated," Andy hissed. "It's me she lives with."

"Well, sir." The nurse slammed another clipboard on to the desk, making him wince. "You will have to wait until a relative gets here or her husband comes out."

Andy froze and stared at her in utter astonishment. "Her husband?"

She nodded. "He arrived a few minutes ago. He's sitting with her now."


	16. Chapter 16

**16**

**A/N: **I was really overwhelmed (in the best of ways!) by all the reviews I received for the last chapter. And I didn't even threaten, beg or force you. :-D So thank you once again. I hope you enjoy this chapter which - I am happy to report - nearly wrote itself.

The first thing that registered was pain. A sharp stabbing sensation that flashed across her forehead and made her afraid to open her eyes against the bright lights that stung already. She felt heavy and uncomfortable, her mouth dry and her skin curiously raw against the stiff fabric of the shirt she was wearing. She was shivering slightly and fleetingly wondered why. Then the smell hit her and she knew instantly where she was. A hospital. There was silence so she was not in the emergency room anymore. With some difficulty, she moved her hand towards her stomach and pressed it against the swelling, feeling for movement that never came. Dread began to rise inside her and she finally opened her heavy eyelids. The light was artificial, she realized, coming from a neon tube mounted on an extension of the wall above her head. She could see that rain was coming down in cascades outside and she tried to concentrate on the steady patter of raindrops to calm herself down.

"How are you feeling?"

She turned her head drowsily against the familiar voice and found Charles sitting in a chair next to her bed, his hand close to hers but never touching it. Her glasses were gone, she noticed, so it took a moment to focus on his face and find that he looked genuinely worried, a little weary even. Ignoring his question and the nagging feeling inside her at his presence, she touched his hand to make sure that she had his full attention.

"I can't feel my baby," she told him, unable to hold her tears at bay in her weakened state. "Did something happen to her? Is she...?" She stared at her husband pleadingly, unable to finish the sentence. Charles squeezed her hand back reassuringly.

"It's okay, Sharon. She's fine. Probably just sleeping. It's you they are worried about."

"Are you sure?" she asked, afraid to get her hopes up in case he wasn't.

"Yes. I've spoken to the doctor. She was rather surprised that your body gave out only today and not earlier. She says you're underweight and dehydrated and that you have been for some time. The baby isn't affected yet, but it will be if you don't take care of yourself."

Sharon closed her eyes, assaulted by the achingly familiar feeling of guilt. She kept forgetting to eat or drink enough water while she was on the job as she was frantically trying to make sense of Ronnie Beck's death while she dealt with other cases and, until recently, Rusty's rude and hurtful behavior. There were so many issues to consider and crises to deal with on a daily basis that she sometimes tended to ignore her own most basic needs. She noticed the IV-drip in her arm now and the additional blanket they'd thrown over her to keep her warm. Now that she had made sure that she hadn't lost her daughter, she was beginning to question her husband's presence in the room.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asked him. "I- I passed out at the office, didn't I? What brings you here?"

"Cedar's called me. I'm still listed as your emergency contact in their files."

She brought her free hand up to her forehead when she realized. "Last time I was here when I gave birth to Laura."

"Yeah. My hotel's close, so I came here right away."

She shook her head, lowering her hand to be able to properly look at him. "But why?"

He huffed and the exasperation showing in his eyes made it seem as if she'd been asking a really stupid question. "Because I was worried about you. I still am."

"That's none of your business anymore, Charles," she told him as sharply as she could. "Where's Andy? Did he bring me in?"

For a moment, Charles looked uncomfortable then he took a deep breath as if what he was about to say was difficult for him to put into words. "He's why I'm here, actually." She blinked, confused, trying to momentarily ban the thoughts of his spying on her and his other suspicious behavior from her mind. This was personal, this was about her relationship with Andy and it worried her.

"When I came by your condo back in June you had a sprained wrist and bruises, Sharon. Now you're malnourished and exhausted. Your boyfriend is violent, isn't he? It doesn't take a lot to provoke him and I ran a background check on him. Did you know he used to be a very heavy drinker? Is he doing that again?"

Sharon couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her poor health was entirely her own fault and the injuries Charles had seen had been inflicted upon her by Vladimir Karkaroff. Charles had never been easy to read but somehow she believed that the concern in his eyes was genuine. Did he still care about her? And how was that even possible when he was planning something sinister at the same time?

"You don't have to stay with him just because he got you pregnant," Charles told her. "I can help you get a restraining order-"

She cut him off sharply. "Charles, you're completely on the wrong track here! Andy isn't violent, not at all. He would never lay a finger on me and he tries to help me take care of myself. I just don't let him."

Admitting to it felt like a blow to her head. Why did she always have to be so stubborn? And what good had it ever done her? Why couldn't she let go of that overwhelming need for control and relish some of it as was normal, necessary even, in a relationship?

"I know I've never been a good husband to you, Sharon, but I don't want you hurt. I see why you ended things with me, but I can't let you walk into that trap. You've always been lenient when I wronged you and I think you're doing the same with Flynn."

Sharon rolled her eyes, sinking back into the pillow. After years of separation, Charles still thought he knew her and had developed a sudden and most unwelcome wish to protect her from a perceived threat. Could she believe him or did he have ulterior motives? She sought his face for a trace of dishonesty but found only what looked like affection and genuine concern. She hadn't wondered about his feelings towards her in years, had considered him little more than a stranger, someone that she used to know in another life. Having locked her own feelings away, she had automatically assumed that he either had never had any in the first place or that he had done the same.

"I'm not who you think I am," she told him softly, suddenly eager to dispel his concern not only because of what she feared he might do to Andy, but also because she didn't want him to worry. The thought of sparing his feelings was alien to her, but she did it anyway. Sharon had given up holding grudges a long time ago and she now discovered that despite everything that he might have done after, she didn't hate him for cheating on her anymore. She had a different life now and it seemed unimportant and far away. "I've changed, Charles. I can hold my own. I am not the naïve girl from Utah anymore."

She ended her explanations there, unwilling to give him any more insight into the woman she had become, the woman who wanted nothing to do with Charles Graham. She had been so young when they had gotten married and so inexperienced. Love had seemed like an all-encompassing concept and she had never even once doubted her feelings for Charles or his for her. Their romance had been a whirlwind, could have been taken directly from a novel. Her parents had liked him, her friends – all except Barbara of course – had liked him and she had been madly in love. Her relationship with Andy was so different, so much more mature and it felt so much deeper. Back in her early twenties she had mistaken attraction for affection and being in love with the idea of being with a smart, good-looking man for being in love with the man himself. After a few years of marriage she had become weak and desperate which was why she had ignored and explained away the rumors she'd been hearing about Charles' infidelity for so long. Only when it had been thrown right in her face, she had finally gotten her act together. Life as a single mother of two in a demanding job that most of her fellow cops hated her for doing had shaped her, had made her stronger and more self-assured. Sharon Raydor knew what she wanted, she made not excuses and she didn't take shit from anyone anymore. She had matured and grown into a strong woman who could take care of herself, but Charles hadn't been around to see it happen. He, it seemed, still mistook her for the fragile girl she had been when they had been married.

For a second she considered revealing the fact to him that she was in the know about his communication with Ronnie, but then she decided against it. She was still tired and drowsy and she could not risk missing out on any important clue or warning him that they were onto him. Right now she just wanted to sleep, exhausted by their short conversation.

"You're divorcing me because you want to marry him," Charles stated. "I can't let that happen."

"It's out of your hands," she rasped, her throat still dry and her eyelids suddenly heavy again. The adrenaline rush that their conversation had brought about was ebbing away and the sound of the rain dulled her mind, making her sleepy. The only thing that kept her awake was the lingering concern for her daughter who still remained motionless while she usually liked to kick her mother relentlessly at this time of day. The remains of Sharon's energy were quickly fading and she was unable to gather enough strength to pull her hand from Charles' sudden grasp. She gave an indignant moan at the touch but found it ignored.

"Maybe we can start over," Charles said. "I've missed you, Sharon."

He couldn't be serious.

"Forget it," she whispered, barely audible over the rain.

When he responded, his voice sounded uncharacteristically emotional, as if he was close to tears himself which she found odd. "I don't want to hurt you, Sharon. I never wanted to hurt you."

They were both startled by the sound of the door being flung open, revealing Rusty who had assumed a combative stance.

"Get out!" The teenager commanded. "Leave her alone!"

"Kid, you have no idea-" Charles began but was cut off by Rusty who approached quickly and attempted to pull the older man to his feet by his shoulders. He shook him off and glared at him, making Sharon worry for her ward's health for a moment. He was still lank in comparison to the broad-shouldered and tall Charles and he would not stand a chance in a fight.

"You need to leave now. Sharon doesn't want you to be here. Do you, Sharon?"

Both men looked at her expectantly and she shook her head. "Please leave, Charles."

"You heard her!" Rusty's eyes were shooting daggers and his outstretched arm pointing towards the door reminded Sharon strangely of her own exasperated gestures whenever she was admonishing him not to leave his things lying around the condo. The discovery almost made her smile. He really was hers in every way that counted.

"Think about what I said," Charles said woodenly. "I'll see you around, kid." His last words before leaving the room were spoken with an underlying threat that couldn't have been more evident. They would meet again in court and he would do everything to undermine Rusty's credibility as a witness. Suddenly she wondered whether that was why Charles had been spying on her. Maybe she hadn't been the intended target. Maybe it was Rusty. Before she could give in to the feeling of protectiveness Rusty sat down on the chair and took her hand firmly in his. The gesture was unfamiliar to both of them but it made it seem even sweeter to Sharon who knew how cautious he was when it came to displaying his affection for others.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Did he-?"

"No, no. I'm okay, Rusty," she told him quickly, unwilling to tell him what they had been talking about. "Thank you for saving me, though. I was getting a little tired of him." She managed a mischievous little smile but it did nothing to change Rusty's solemn expression.

"Andy called me. They weren't going to let him see you because he's not related to you. I would have brought him along but they only allow one person at a time to come in here. They say that stress is bad for you now. Are you feeling okay? Do you need anything?"

"Some water would be helpful." Although she was trying to put on a brave face for Rusty, she could tell that her quiet voice conveyed enough exhaustion to prevent him from being fooled by her act. He reached over to the nightstand and handed her a half full glass, steadying her shaking hand when she brought it up to her lips while he supported her back for her to sit up enough with the other.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this," Sharon apologized when she had settled back into her pillows. "I'll be fine, you know."

Rusty looked down at the mound of her stomach under the covers. "She's okay. The nurse said so."

"She's not moving," Sharon confessed, tears burning in her eyes again. She gritted her teeth because she didn't want to upset Rusty by crying in front of him and pressed her hand down more firmly. "I must have fallen in my office. What if she got hurt?"

Rusty's eyes were large and worried now and Sharon hated herself for putting her own fears on him. "Do you want me to get a doctor?" Sharon nodded. "And can you tell Andy I'm fine? I bet he's out of his mind."

Rusty gave a small grin. "His pacing in the hallway is annoying everyone to no end. Provenza threatened to lock him in the bathroom and Mike offered to teach him relaxing exercises."

"They are all there?" Sharon asked, touched, to which Rusty nodded and squeezed her hand one last time. "I'll try and get the doctor."

He walked out and left her alone with the rain and her thoughts. She couldn't be sure what Charles' motives were and whether he was just telling lies. Did he honestly think that Andy was hurting her? It was laughable, but then again he knew neither Andy nor their life together. And how could he hire someone to nose around her private life for him to expose the information in front of a jury and a packed courtroom if he cared about her at all? If one thing hadn't changed about her over the past two decades, it was her need for privacy. She only realized that she had nodded off when she was woken by the scraping of a chair and a warm hand on her arm. Suddenly worried that Charles had come back, she opened her eyes and looked straight into Flynn's face.

"Hey," he said, rubbing her arm.

"Hey yourself," she replied with a grateful smile. "I'm glad you're here."

"I wouldn't have left you for the world, but then there's that pesky little thing about me not being married to you." He grimaced. "Maybe if I shot Charles, we could get married right away. Elope to Vegas tomorrow."

Even though she was tired and worried, he made her laugh. It was something, she realized, Charles rarely managed. Though attractive and charming, his sense of humor was fairly limited and until Andy, she'd never know the luxury of being snuggled against a man's side after sex with her stomach hurting from laughter because of him. Never would Charles badly impersonate Jamie Oliver while cooking a tasty Italian dish or crack impossible jokes at a staff meeting while keeping a perfectly straight face. She raised his hand to her mouth and kissed it.

"That plan is flawed. I can't waste my precious time making conjugal visits to you in prison."

He chuckled but then grew serious again. "Rusty says the little one is quiet? There was an emergency, but the doc promised to see you as soon as it is dealt with. She didn't seem particularly worried, though."

She nodded, slightly calmed. "I thought of something, Andy. What if Charles is trying to challenge Rusty's credibility as a witness? What if that is why he was gathering information? It seems like a stretch, but then he has always been known for his creativity when it comes to researching background on cases."

"From what I hear, Stroh isn't faring well in prison. He'll need a creative lawyer to even stand a chance of getting off."

Sharon shook her head. "I can't imagine what would happen if he did!"

"But isn't that a weird coincidence?" Andy asked. "He is bribing Ronnie Beck in order to gain information on a material witness and she gets involved in kidnapping that particular witness along with her supposed ex-boyfriend."

"What if they didn't split at all? What if she just told me that to gain my trust?" Sharon wondered. "Rick is not smart enough to pull off something like that on his own. He's a despicable human being but I don't see how he would know a professional like Karkaroff."

Andy raised his brows. "Maybe he didn't. Maybe Karkaroff was hired by someone else."

"A dead witness can't take the stand," Sharon mused. "But why not just order a hit on him? I'm sure Karkaroff would have done it in a heartbeat. Why the whole kidnapping story?"

"Money?" Andy asked softly. "Didn't your husband say he was in financial trouble?"

Sharon squeezed his hand. "I don't even want to think about it. We can't tell Laura and James anything before we get to the bottom of this, okay? I don't want them to worry just in case Charles turns out to be innocent."

Andy nodded in agreement. "Sure. I just don't see how that could happen."

Sharon hummed softly and Andy jumped. "Are you okay?"

Her devastated expression changed into a bright smile and she withdrew her hand so his came to rest over their daughter. She watched his face relax with relief.

"She's kicking," he stated and leaned down impulsively to capture Sharon's lips in a kiss that they only broke apart from when someone cleared their throat behind them. Sharon looked up to find a good-looking Indian woman about her age in a white lab coat, a smile playing at her lips.

"Hello Mrs Raydor. I see the restless man that almost killed my least-favorite nurse belongs to you." She grinned, slipping large rimless glasses onto her nose to be able to read from the chart on the clipboard she was holding. "You passed out, Mrs Raydor, and what I am really worried about is the amount of time you were unconscious for. You probably don't remember but you woke up for a moment while you were in the ER with me, so you were merely sleeping afterward. That still makes almost twenty minutes. Your back will certainly be a little sore from the fall but you can thank your lucky stars that you did not land on your stomach."

She flipped over the chart. "Your baby is strong, Mrs Raydor. A little small yet healthy, but that will change if you continue like this. You're not as young as you were during your other pregnancies. This is different. You need to gain weight and you need more rest. I'll have to keep you off the job for at least two weeks. I suggest a vacation with someone who likes to cook."

"I can't!" Sharon protested. "I have a very important case right now-"

"It's always the same with those cops." The woman signed off on the chart with flourish and pressed it against her chest again, giving Sharon a stern look. "There's always an important case, but let me make this very clear to you: If you ignore my orders, you'll have a lot more time to invest in your cases soon because you won't have to worry about pregnancy anymore."

Sharon bit her lip. The doctor was right.

"It's okay. We'll take care of it," Andy assured her. "Why don't you take Rusty and visit your mother? Her cooking is beyond great and the trial is still three weeks away."

The doctor pointed at Andy. "Whatever this guy says."

After checking Sharon's vitals, the doctor left them alone again. "Maybe it is for the best if I stay with my mother for a while, but I'll miss you," she told him.

"I'll miss you, too." He kissed her knuckles.

* * *

"Kids these days." Susan Raydor sat down a plate of fruit on the table and poured herself another glass of iced tea. "Always busy with their phones. I offered him fifty bucks so he'd leave it alone for a day." Sharon could tell from her self-satisfied smirk that she wasn't joking.

"Is that why he is currently splashing around in the pond?"

"You bet." Susan's eyes were sparkling with mirth when she looked at her daughter over the rim of her glass. At seventy, she looked several years younger, her hair still the same vivid auburn red that it had always been although Sharon suspected that it was now a terrific dye-job rather than natural. She kept the curly mess at shoulder length now, claiming that it was easier to handle than the long locks she's sported during Sharon's childhood. Another thing they had in common was the need for glasses that manifested itself in the form of a fashionable pair of spectacles that were attached to a golden chain that she wore around her neck. Susan wasn't even half as meticulous as Sharon and claimed that she had spent at least ten years of her life searching for her glasses. Susan was rich but had never been bothered by it, or so she said, so she couldn't have been any more different from the ladies of high society she could have spent her time with if she had been so inclined. Her clothes were tasteful but simple and she shied away from too much jewelry, make-up or elaborate manicures. There was an aura of warmth around her that put everyone at ease almost immediately and even the rather reserved Rusty had taken an instant liking to her. Being with her mother calmed Sharon down like nothing else and she smiled when her hand was enveloped in her mother's that looked like an older, more weathered version of hers.

"You seem preoccupied. I thought it would go away but you've been here for two days now and it hasn't changed." She indicated their surroundings. "You should enjoy the clear air and the sun instead of brooding." Sharon looked from the rich garden to her hands that were folded in her lap. Her mother was right and she looked completely comfortable and relaxed here on her wooden patio, surrounded by potted plants and sunlight. Sharon, however, still couldn't stop wondering about Charles and worrying about Rusty. Her foster son had almost begged her to stop searching for his mother's killer, but she knew that he was just worried for her and that he didn't want her to lose her child over a matter that concerned him.

"It's the kidnapping still," she confessed. "And Charles is involved, too."

She hadn't meant to bring it here, but then she couldn't stop herself. Oddly, telling her mother about problems still made them appear smaller and less significant, as if Susan could just solve them in a heartbeat. Sharon felt silly for being comforted by the mere act of telling her mother every detail, but it soothed her anyway. When she had finished, Susan held up one finger in silence and vanished into the house, returning with a glass of white wine a moment later. It was technically too early in the day to drink, but Sharon wasn't worried as her mother was by nature a very moderate drinker.

"Sorry, honey, but that calls for something stronger than iced-tea," Susan took a sip and shook her head. "You know, I can't offer you any advice on how to go about that investigation, but I do know that I never picked Charles for the devious type." She stared into the distance where Rusty was in the act of leaping off a rock into the water. "I actually quite liked him initially. He was still a little immature when I first met him and I thought that would go away with time. Later he always seemed weak to me, not spiteful or cruel."

Sharon nodded, glad that she was either right or not the only one who had fallen for his charms.

"I know. It's the same with me."

"But he's broke, you know. He had to give up his firm." Susan shrugged. "Who knows what that did to him. He was always ambitious, even when he was drinking."

"How do you know all that?" Sharon asked, surprised. Suddenly she longed for a taste of the excellent Chardonnay her mother was always fully stocked on. Instead she sipped her sweet tea and caressed her stomach to remind herself why she was restraining herself.

"I'm still in touch with his mother. Irene is worried about him, but he won't talk about it. It's curious really, as he had some very lucrative cases last year. I don't see how his financial situation could be that bad."

Sharon took a deep breath. "Why does everything have to be that fucked-up?"

"Language, Sharon," her mother warned but it only served to make them both break into fits of giggles.

"You use foul language a lot more than I do!" Sharon protested, still laughing.

"Yes, but I am your mother. I am allowed to do so."

"I'm a mother, too!"

"That's different. It's like I used to say when you were seventeen. One day you wanted to attend that party in town. You told me that when I was your age, I'd been partying all night."

"Which is true," Sharon pointed out. "And you told me-"

"At your age, I was older. Yes. You disappointed me, though. I fully expected you to try and sneak out at night to go anyway, but you boringly took a bubble bath and went to bed with a book. Your father thought I was crazy for staking out in the garden near your window for half the night."

"I'm boring, you're crazy. That's how it has always been," Sharon smiled.

"True. I was so glad that you had Barbara, though. She managed to keep you in line."

"You mean out of line."

Susan laughed and shook her head. "I remember her on this very porch, fighting Charles for every single provision in that pre-nup she cooked up. He hated her for that."

"We're due in court next month. I hope that pre-nup is as good as Barbara says because I am sure they'll continue fighting over it."

Susan enveloped her daughter's hand in hers. "Don't think about that now. Just lean back and relax while I start dinner."

"Mom, it's only five o'clock!" Sharon protested.

"Some guy named Andy told me to cook you at least one decent meal a day and I'm taking that very seriously." She adopted a fake British accent and a dramatic, high-pitched voice. "He is a policeman after all, darling!"

Sharon waved her away. "Oh god, mom! Please just go away."

Susan sashayed inside and Sharon closed her eyes, inhaling the air that carried the scent of pine trees and held the first faint hint of autumn. Footsteps on the patio made her open her eyes and she found Rusty looking down at her, hair dripping wet, wearing shorts and a faded t-shirt that looked old and battered despite the fact that she had paid a fortune for it because he'd instantly fallen in love with it. He looked tanned and rested and as careless as a seventeen year old boy was supposed to be. Sometimes he still woke up screaming from nightmares, but he had agreed to begin seeing a therapist to deal with his issues when they returned home. Sharon wanted him safe and sound and she would do anything to ensure that. Right now she couldn't traps around Los Angeles and chase down leads herself, but there were other ways to get things done. When Rusty had gone inside to take a shower, she rose from her chair and went inside herself to retrieve her notebook.

The comfortingly familiar scent of her mother's home mingled with the smell of rosemary and garlic wafting over from the kitchen and she inhaled it, rolling her head on her shoulders. There wasn't anything more relaxing than staying here where she knew every nook and cranny. There was a knock on the door and she could hear her mother's voice calling from the kitchen.

"That's probably Mrs Edwards! She always comes over to borrow one thing or another. Could you open the door, please?"

Sharon shuffled towards the door and opened it. Fully expecting to see the old neighbor in her scruffy cardigan and bluish curls, she gasped at the sight of her daughter.

"Laura! Honey! What are you doing here?" She reached out to hug her, her heat beating rapidly with the pleasant surprise, but Laura took a step backwards before she could touch her. The dark look on her face alarmed Sharon and she squeezed her arm. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong, mom? Seriously? Why didn't you tell me that Andy is an alcoholic? For god's sake, mom! Why do you always make the same mistakes again?"

Sharon was too shocked to say anything and just stood there like a deer in the headlights, staring at her angry daughter. Laura was usually calm and always ready to hear the other side of things, but today she was in a white hot rage. Apparently Laura took Sharon's silence for confirmation.

"So it's true. He's drinking and you let him, mom. Just like you let dad!"

Sharon could sense that this was going in the wrong direction, but Laura wouldn't be stopped by her attempts to get her to calm down and sit down in the living-room with her.

"It's going to be just like it was with James and me, isn't it?" Laura had her father's eyes and for a moment Sharon felt as if Charles was staring at her from her daughter's face. "After a few years you'll finally get rid of him and keep him away from her."

Sharon made a fist, her fingernails digging painfully into her palm. This was it. Her daughter was finally accusing her of what she had been feeling guilty for for years: Keeping her father away to protect the children from his drunken behavior and carelessness.

"Why, mom? Why couldn't you be a little smarter this time around?"

Sharon wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that her father was wrong if he had told her that, but she couldn't. Something inside her had snapped and she felt as if she was bleeding out with the pain her daughter's accusations inflicted on her.

"Laura, I-" she began but then trailed off, feeling drained and desperate.

"You know what, mom? That child should have never been conceived in the first place and you know it!"

Laura's eyes narrowed and she turned on her heel to march into the kitchen, leaving Sharon alone in the hallway.


	17. Chapter 17

**17**

**A/N: **There's fluff in this chapter and a part that I think is rather tame but might receive an M-rating if you're really strict about these things so I thought I'd give you a heads-up. Also: Enjoy the calm before the storm. All hell will break loose in Chapter 18. ;-)

Sharon wanted to follow Laura into the kitchen and explain or possibly yell at her for abandoning all reason. Instead she stood rooted to the spot, both arms around her stomach, listening. The sound of hot oil sizzling fell silent at once after the loud thud of a pan that was being set aside from the stove. For a moment the house was so quiet that she could hear the faint sounds of the cicadas in the garden and the croaking of the many frogs that inhabited the pond. She wanted to go outside and just lie down in the grass to absorb the sensations of summer but she knew she couldn't go as the silence was now interrupted by the sound of her mother's voice.

"Laura, my dear. I recognized your sweet tones right away." Susan's tone carried a mixture of affection and sternness that was very familiar to Sharon from back when she had been a child. There was also a note of sarcasm there that hinted upon a healthy amount of anger that Susan - as always - managed to keep well under control. Laura didn't answer and Sharon imagined her defensive stance. "Your mother came here to get some rest, you know. She rather needs it," Susan said conversationally. "Here. Cut the tomatoes."

After a moment of what had to be hesitance Sharon heard the sound of a knife making contact with a wooden chopping board and was a bit relieved to find that Laura had complied with her grandmother's request. After her earlier outburst of fury her silence was a little disconcerting but Susan didn't seem to mind in the least.

"So Andy is an alcoholic," she mused. "Big deal. He's been sober for almost two decades now."

"You knew?" Laura's voice wasn't as loud as it had been before but it still carried well with anger and hurt. Despite her earlier harshness, Sharon's heart broke for the devastation in her daughter's tone.

"Yes. Andy declined the great wine I brought for Christmas and I asked him about it when you and James were not around."

"You barely know him! How can you be so sure he's not lying about being sober?"

The sound of the sizzling oil flared up again, joined by a loud hissing when Susan began to spoon meat into the pan, making it difficult for Sharon to hear what was being said so she inched closer to the door.

"I can't, of course. But I trust him. And I trust your mother's judgment. So should you, by the way."

Laura snorted, clearly audible even over the cooking sounds.

"Yeah, right. Because she picked another alcoholic and got knocked-up at almost fifty. That sounds perfectly reasonable and normal."

Susan clicked her tongue. "Normal. I hate that word. Using it seems to insinuate that there actually _is_ a norm when diversity is the only thing that keeps this world afloat." She hummed to herself for a moment while audibly stirring the food. "You know, one of the perks of being as old as I am is the wisdom that comes with age. Nothing matters more than happiness and nothing is worse than debating issues to death inside your head. Your mother fell in love with your father when she was very young. I wish she hadn't, but she learned about the nature of life the hard way. Ever since she split from Charles she's been over-analyzing her relationships to the point where it got somewhat annoying. Don't you think it's a good thing that she's just jumped into things with Andy?" There was no answer and Sharon tried to picture Laura's scandalized face inside her head.

"I like it." Susan's voice sounded as if she was about to rub her hands together in glee. "Very much. Your mother is finally living a little."

"But she is acting like an idiot!" Laura protested vigorously.

Sharon didn't like feeling weak or incapable of standing up for herself so she pushed the door fully open and walked into the kitchen to join the conversation. The two women turned their heads towards her, their gazes apprehensive and sympathetic respectively.

"You should have let me explain," Sharon said sharply. She didn't believe in fighting with her children if it wasn't absolutely necessary and so she chose her battles carefully, but now her earlier numbness was slowly being replaced by anger. While she had always been a strict mother, she usually tried to be understanding of her children and to consider their side of things before she spoke. Right now, however, she was having difficulties doing so.

"Of course you would have explained it all away! It's called codependency, mom."

"I know what it's called and it is not what this is!" Sharon couldn't keep herself from raising her voice. She loved Laura but she also loved Andy and their life together and she wasn't about to have it ruined by false accusations. It also hurt her to think that her daughter thought she was weak and lying to her as a result. "I have never seen Andy touch a drink in as long as I have known him. I've read his file at work. I have been to an AA-meeting with him. He is mostly a sponsor nowadays but he still goes regularly. There isn't a single indication that he could have relapsed even momentarily." Laura's eyes had narrowed, but at least she wasn't protesting. "If he started drinking again – which I sincerely doubt –, I would have to take measures both as his superior officer and as his partner, that is true." Reciting the reasons why Andy wasn't a danger to her or her family had calmed her down and she took a deep breath before she closed her argument: "I know that one never stops being an alcoholic, but I have complete faith in him, Laura."

Laura closed her eyes too late to keep Sharon from seeing the tears welling up inside them. Her voice was shaky when she spoke again. "I tried to be accepting of it all. Especially after James threw such a fit when you told us about the baby, but it is just so-" She was searching for the right word but then just shook her head, defeated. "It is just so weird. I was trying to do the right thing here, to be supportive of your choice to keep the baby, but... but now I am simply not sure whether I shouldn't protect you from yourself. I mean... it's insane!"

Sharon reached out and stroked her daughter's shoulder, suddenly well-aware of what must have happened. Laura tended to ignore negative feelings and do what seemed most reasonable and pragmatic under the circumstances while her true feelings remained bottled up inside her, ready to erupt if she was pushed too far. It seemed that Charles had used this to his advantage and had fueled them by accusing Andy of being a threat to Sharon. Laura, helplessly manipulated by her father, had seen no other alternative to lashing out at her mother. Sharon's anger was growing again but this time it wasn't directed at her daughter.

"Did you speak about this to your father by any chance?" she asked softly, careful not to set Laura off. Her head snapped up anyway, her eyes suddenly ablaze with suspicion.

"So it's dad's fault now? Is that what you are saying?" Her voice broke, betraying the emotional turmoil that was hidden behind the cool facade.

"Honey, I think your father misunderstood some of the-"

"Of course he did. Because he is always wrong and you're always right. Is that it?"

Sharon made the mistake to roll her eyes which was enough to push her daughter over the edge. "Of course! You think he's a stupid idiot. Of course I am not supposed to love him because you don't deem him worthy-"

Susan who had been silently going about her work in the kitchen clicked her tongue loudly. "Laura, watch yourself," she snarled, causing Laura to snort angrily. Throwing her hands in the air, she stormed out of the kitchen. A moment later the front door slammed. Sharon lowered herself to one of the bar stools and rubbed the spot where her other daughter seemed startled by the loud noises and was rolling around inside her. She had allowed herself to be fooled by Laura's acceptance of the new situation when she should have suspected that she was just trying not to show how difficult it was for her. How could something that filled her with so much love make everyone else so mad, she thought wearily. Susan walked up to Sharon and wrapped her arms around her.

"Poor Laura," she said into Sharon's hair. "So confused. But she's a good girl. She'll come around. Wait and see."

Sharon didn't say anything, exhausted by the argument. It seemed that nothing she said had any impact on her daughter. After all, Charles was an excellent manipulator and Laura, who loved him, was an easy victim. But maybe her mother was right and she would calm down and see that she'd been wrong. Suddenly Sharon felt a jolt of yearning for Andy. She hadn't previously noticed how attached she had grown to him. She didn't exactly need him to make her decisions, but it always felt good to hear his opinion or to allow him to give her comfort.

"I'm making the roasted chicken you like so much along with rosemary potatoes and crystallized carrots," Susan announced.

Sharon hummed luxuriously. "Mom, that sounds heavenly. I just have one more call to make before I help you."

Susan grinned and waved her away. "Tell Andy I said hi."

Sharon feigned a smile that her mother would surely have identified as fake if she hadn't already turned back towards her pans and pots. Sharon climbed the stairs and found Rusty standing at the top of them, looking worried.

"I overheard your conversation with Laura, Sharon. I'm sorry. Do you want me to go find her? I... I could also... yell at her, you know."

Rusty looked a bit taken-aback when she reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately. For a second they both froze and stared at each other then Sharon cringed and quickly dropped her hand.

"Sorry," she said. "Pregnancy hormones. Make you go all mushy."

She could tell from the horrified look on Rusty's face that her words had just constituted a very clear case of too-much-information so she raised her hands in defeat. "Sorry again. Please don't worry about Laura. She probably just needs some time alone. My mother says she'll come around and I hope so, too."

She excused herself to end the awkward moment and walked into the bedroom she was staying in, leaning against the closed door for a moment. Large bay windows opened on to a small wooden balcony that provided barely enough space to host a narrow chair and spindle-legged table and right now the warm evening sun dipped the room into warm light. A white bed, along with a matching dresser and wardrobe were the only furniture in the room that was otherwise dominated by lavender drapes and a polished wooden floor the color of ebony. It wasn't the house Sharon had grown up in, but she had always felt right at home in this bedroom which had all the characteristics of a safe haven. She left her phone where it was on the dresser and lay down on the bed instead, snuggling into the sheets for comfort before she finally allowed the tears to fall, her sobs muffled by the pillow.

* * *

"I'm pretty damn sure that this was one of the worst ideas you've ever had." Provenza put the can of beer to his mouth and took a noisy slurp that made Flynn roll his eyes.

"If you stopped drinking and opening drawers when you think I don't notice and started helping instead, this might actually work."

"As if," Provenza scoffed. "You have no idea how to do this and you'll risk your life, mine and probably the baby's."

They were sitting on the floor in Sharon's and now Andy's bedroom, surrounded by what seemed like numerous parts that, if assembled, were supposed to form a crib. Unfortunately Andy was quite unsuccessful in his attempts to find the right parts to fit together. While he was trying to make sense of the construction manual, Provenza was snacking on chips, drinking beer and nosing around. Andy was quite sure that Sharon would have thrown a fit had she known that he had allowed Provenza in their bedroom - and unsupervised for the most part. The white-haired lieutenant walked over to the bed and sat on it, bouncing up and down to test the mattress, ignoring Andy's exasperated look. He ran a hand across the sheets and wriggled his eyebrows.

"So this is where the magic happens?"

Andy rolled his eyes and threw a balled up piece of paper at him. "Can you stop being gross and start being helpful please?"

Provenza gave an exaggerated shrug. "Okay. So I will. How about this: Are you sure Sharon's not going to freak when she sees it? From what I gather she wants to wait."

Andy growled and tried to piece together two wooden elements that he was surprised to find actually fit. Feeling around for the screwdriver, he tried to avoid Provenza whom he already regretted inviting. Buying the crib had been a spur of the moment decision and while he was determined to set it up, he could see Provenza's point. Maybe preparing the condo for the baby's arrival while Sharon wasn't there to prevent it was less of a labor of love and more of a statement. He wanted to build a life and he was no longer willing to let her sabotage his attempts at every turn.

"On the other hand, she might not be too fond of a pile of wood either." Provenza strolled towards the dresser and picked up one of Sharon's picture frames, grinning at the sight of Rusty, James and Laura in front of a Christmas tree. He replaced it and picked up another one that had been taken a month ago at his birthday party. Sharon was sitting on the couch next to Andy, surrounded by her team and smiling into the camera. Her loose black top hid her stomach completely and was rather low-cut at the same time, revealing an unusual amount of cleavage.

"I can't believe you're staring at her breasts. Have you no shame?"

Provenza gave him a confused look. "Why? Because she's pregnant? I daresay they got even better since-"

"No. Because she is with your best friend!" Andy growled.

"Ah. And who is that?" Provenza asked nonchalantly but then finally set his can aside. Andy made good use of the opportunity and handed him the screwdriver.

"I'll hold this together and you try to fix it, okay?"

Provenza grumbled and opened his mouth to protest when the doorbell rang.

"Please say you invited Mike, too. He'd have this thing set up in a heartbeat."

Andy furrowed his brow and got up from the floor, stretching his aching legs. "I am not expecting anyone," he murmured and walked towards the door to open it, oddly grateful for his partner's heavy steps following him. The door revealed Barbara in a business suit, her curls in slight disorder that suggested that she'd been running her hand through it multiple times that day, clutching a file to her chest with a harassed look on her face.

"Hey," she said. "I need to speak to Sharon. She's not answering her phone so I thought I'd just drop by."

Andy stepped aside to let her enter the apartment. Something seemed to be wrong with the ever-confident woman and her usual good humor was notably absent while her eyes darted around the room in search for nothing in particular.

"What's wrong?" he asked sharply, somewhat glad that Sharon wasn't around to hear what he was now sure would be bad news. "Sharon's with her mother. She was hospitalized last week and needed a little vacation."

Barbara's eyes widened. "She was in hospital? And you guys didn't tell me? Well thank you." She slammed the folder down on to the table and began to pace, arms crossed. After a moment she stopped and looked at Andy again. "Is she okay?"

Andy nodded. "Yes, she is. They both are, but it was quite a scare. Also another reason to get on with that divorce." He didn't usually bring the issue up because he felt that Sharon's previous marriage was hardly any of his business, but he still felt stung and slightly unsettled by the fact that he had been denied to see Sharon back at the hospital. And legally so. It made him feel helpless and irrelevant.

"That's why I'm here actually. The first court date has been set for the week before the Stroh trial at Charles' request. I'm fully prepared but I can't help wondering whether he has something else up his sleeve. So far he's been stalling and now he suddenly wants to speed things up. I have a bad feeling about this." She gratefully accepted the chilled can of beer Provenza was offering her and took a sip. "What happened to Sharon exactly? Does Charles know about it?"

Andy quickly summed up the events for her during which Barbara's gaze darkened to the point where her eyes were narrowed to slits. She clicked her tongue when Andy had finished and sarcastically toasted Provenza with her beer before she took another draft. Swallowing, she grimaced.

"I don't even like beer. Between a recovering alcoholic and a pregnant lady I don't assume you have anything stronger?" She sighed when Andy regretfully shook his head and set the can down. "I bet that bastard is trying to rush the trial along because he knows that Sharon is more likely to settle right now that she's exhausted and worried about the baby. He really is the worst person."

She sat down on one of the bar-stools and dropped her head into her hands. "How about one of you shoots him?" she asked the two men. "I know a fantastic criminal lawyer. He'll get you off the hook in no time."

Provenza laughed. "Sounds reasonable."

"What are you guys doing, anyway? Just hanging out?"

Provenza gave a snort of laughter and pointed at an embarrassed Andy. "He bought a crib and is trying to set it up. Needless to say he's hopeless."

Barbara smirked. "Ah, those pesky little things. It's been a while since I assembled one but Sharon is absolutely helpless when it comes to stuff like that so when The Cockroach was out of the picture, I had to lend her a hand."

Provenza grabbed her firmly by the arm. "You are now officially my new best friend. Please come and put us all out of our misery."

* * *

A leg touched hers and a cold breeze made the hairs on her arms stand up when the covers were lifted momentarily. Sharon, still half-asleep, made a disapproving sound without opening her eyes but was instantly pacified by a warm arm that wrapped itself around her waist and a pair of lips that were pressed against her temple. She opened her eyes, suddenly confused as her surroundings did not match the fact that she wasn't alone.

"Don't jump. It's just me." She turned around and found Andy Flynn grinning at her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, confused and still sleepy.

"I thought I'd drop by for your last weekend here to show your mother what real Italian cooking is like." He kissed her temple again and buried his nose in her already mussed up hair. "I missed you."

Sharon smiled contently when she snuggled into his chest. "I missed you, too. It was a terribly long two weeks without you." She closed her eyes again, drowsy with the familiar scent of him and happy to have him in her arms again. While she was ready to go right back to sleep, Flynn didn't seem tired at all.

"Your mother let me in. Is she always awake this early?"

"That depends on what time it is," she yawned, unwilling to open her eyes.

"5:30."

"Ughh..." Sharon buried her face in the pillow. "That's gruesome."

His hand brushed her waist and gently pushed the fabric of her skirt up slightly. "Is that a new nightgown?"

Sharon hummed, slightly annoyed by his talking. She just wanted to hold on to him and go back to sleep until the smell of coffee and fresh bread woke her like it had been the case every morning for the previous two weeks.

"I went shopping with my mother. Do you like it?"

"Very much, but you should probably take it off," he whispered and she felt his lips on her collarbone, trailing down towards her breasts, eliciting a soft moan that escaped her lips beside herself. Sharon felt the familiar tingle of arousal when his hand slid further down between her legs and he began to place kisses on her forehead and temple, the stubble on his jaw scratching across her cheek. She moaned quietly when he continued down her cheekbone and neck, biting the sensitive skin above her collarbone lightly on his way back down to her breasts. She reached out and pulled his shirt from his pants to be able to touch the skin of his stomach and smiled at him when he lifted her nightgown above her head a minute later. Andy gave a soft grunt when he came to rest on top of her and she arched her back, reveling in the sensations his gentle thrusts sent through her body.

"That's great," he whispered huskily into her ear while he was gradually beginning to quicken his pace, making her breath hitch. "Having sex with a girl in her mother's home without having to worry about getting her pregnant."

"Shut... up," she demanded, fingers digging into his back. Andy caressed her cheek lightly when she gave a loud moan.

"Shhh. Rusty's sleeping next door." She could hear the amusement in his voice at her futile attempts to be quiet and she hated him a little for reaching down and teasing her even further.

"Sleeps like a.. dead man," Sharon panted and kissed him hungrily to muffle her sounds of pleasure. When they were finished, he lay on his back and she settled down half on top of him, her head resting on his chest. Andy caressed her neck while she was drawing lazy circles on his bare skin.

"Can't you just stay here so we never have to go back?" she murmured. "I don't want to face Charles in court. I don't want to find out how exactly he is entangled in the whole mess with Ronnie Beck."

He pulled the covers over them with his free hand then wrapped his arm around her again. She could feel his lips and breath against her hair and found herself fighting sleep again. Still she could tell that something was weighing on his mind and she was almost relieved when he finally spoke again, running his hand up and down her back in a motion that was a little too soothing if one was on the brink of falling asleep and trying not to.

"You need to get that divorce, you know?" Although he was trying to sound playful, she could tell that he was actually very serious. "I almost attacked that nurse when she refused to let me see you. I've never been especially eager to get married again but with you... there's so much that can happen in our line of work and I don't want either of us to be forced to pace hospital hallways until a relative arrives." She could hear the anguish in his voice and raised her head to look into his eyes. He looked away, trying to hide his emotions from her. Decades of being best friends with Provenza seemed to have taught him that. She propped herself up on her elbows and leaned in to place a soft kiss to his lips. When she drew back, she was smiling.

"That was the worst proposal I've ever heard, Andy Flynn. I know I am old and I have a lot of kids, but I am still well-off financially and therefore a pretty good catch."

He reached up and pulled her down towards him again. "You forgot to mention the fact that you're also pretty impossible." They kissed again and she felt him smile against her mouth.

"You mentioned eloping to Vegas back at the hospital," she whispered. "We should do that."

He looked at her, genuinely surprised. "Are you serious?" Sharon suddenly felt giddy. She'd always done everything by the book and she knew that everyone was expecting her to wait a reasonable few months after the divorce was finalized and then have a tasteful little party to celebrate her marriage to Andy Flynn. Somehow she felt in need of proving them wrong, of doing something that was so unlike her that it made her feel free and careless.

"If you're in, I am too."

She felt the laughter that made his upper body tremble and chuckled into his chest.

"Barbara will hate me, though. She's spent hours on the last pre-nup and I suspect that she won't allow me to get married without another one. She's more experienced now, though. She was just a rookie when she did the last-" She stopped mid-sentence, suddenly mortified that Andy would take her rambling on about pre-nups the wrong way, but he just ran his hand through her hair.

"Don't worry, honey. I want you, not your money. I'll sign anything as long as I'm not accidentally selling my soul to Barbara or something."

Sharon smiled, both relieved and touched and closed her eyes again. "I might not marry you, though, if you don't shut up now," she murmured against his skin, her arm firmly wrapped around his torso. "I really need my sleep."

* * *

He didn't know how often he had seen these two together like this in the past but he was sure it had to be at least a thousand times. Huddling together in a little enclave that was closed off against the world. When they looked at each other, speaking was not actually necessary because they easily understood each other without words. If he was fully honest with himself he had to admit that he'd always been a little jealous of the bond they shared. He had felt left out, an intruder to their lives at times. That was probably why he had always despised Barbara Cleary. They hadn't spotted him yet and instead of presenting the steely facade he was sure they were going to display as soon as they were aware of him, Sharon stood with her arms around her upper body, hugging herself. Barbara was caressing her shoulder and talking to her, eyes bright and expressive, her voice soothing. His wife, though obviously weary, looked better than she had at the hospital two weeks ago. Her complexion looked healthier and the deeply exhausted look had vanished from her eyes. Her belly was rounder than he remembered it and her suit didn't hang on her frame as it had last time he'd seen her, indicating that she had regained the weight she'd lost somewhere along the way. She looked beautiful, he thought suddenly, his eyes now roaming all over her. He took in her rich auburn hair, her long legs clad in Armani, her slim shoulders and elegant hands that were currently resting against her swollen stomach. He couldn't help but stare at it - the obvious outward sign that she was expecting Flynn's child.

He was wary of the man. Especially since he had gotten his hands on his disciplinary file. Lieutenant Flynn had a history of tempering with witnesses, throwing tantrums and making mistakes because of his alcoholism. Granted, the latter hadn't occurred during the past two decades, but Charles wasn't fooled. He knew what it felt like to be unable to go through a single day without thinking about the bottle, without yearning to go to a bar and taste one - just one - glass of a soft, aromatic single malt. He counted himself lucky that he'd never been a violent drunk. When he had too much, he became overly friendly with everyone, talked too much and became a little too easy-going when it came to spending money and flirting with women, but he would have never hit or insulted anyone. Flynn was different. Somehow he had managed to wriggle out of each and every FID-investigation but from what Charles had seen of him so far, he was quite a charmer.

He watched Sharon push a strand of hair behind her ear and nod at Barbara, visibly bracing herself. She squared her shoulders and lowered her arms, one hand slipping on to the handle of her handbag, the other finding its way into her blazer pocket. He smiled at the familiar gesture. Whenever she was nervous or needed reassurance, she would put her hands in her pockets. God forbid if she ever wore a jacket without any because she'd never get through the day.

He was now so close that the two women could hear his footsteps and, as if on cue, they turned around in perfect synchronicity. Barbara glared at him while Sharon avoided his gaze. He wondered whether she, too, was thinking about their wedding day. That beautiful day sunny in May with the perfect blue sky, he mused, had seemed like the beginning of something magical. He remembered her, stunningly beautiful even in what by today's standard's would be considered a hideous eighties gown, her hair up in a simple chignon and her eyes bright and happy. He suddenly wondered what had happened along the way. When had she stopped loving him?

"Charles, fancy meeting you here." Barbara was in her element, eyes blazing, voice dripping with sarcasm. She was a force to be reckoned with. Even Charles' self-assured attorney had had to admit that. In her field, she was the undisputed expert and it showed in the way she stood her ground firmly, elegantly balancing files on her right arm. Barbara wasn't a classic beauty with her frizzy hair and plain features, but even he had to admit that her self-confidence made her look radiant.

"Miss Cleary!" A young woman came running from a nearby office. "The judge would like to talk to you for a minute."

Barbara shrugged, obviously surprised, and turned to Sharon. "I'll be back in a second."

Charles watched her retreating back. So far things were going according to plan. When he turned back towards Sharon, both hands were buried deeply in her pockets and her stare was cold and neutral. Every trace of the vulnerable woman he had just seen being comforted by Barbara had vanished and he found himself faced with what had to be her cop persona. She made to walk past him but he stopped her, slightly stung by the fact that she flinched at his touch.

"It doesn't have to be like this, Sharon," he said softly. "I don't want to fight you in court."

She gave a humorless laugh. "You should have signed the papers then, Charles."

"Sharon!" He walked around her to be able to face her head on again. "This trial is going to be stressful and vicious. My attorney is known to play hardball in court. He won't care about the fact that you're going through a high risk pregnancy. Let's settle this so you don't need to endure all of that."

She shook her head in disbelief, pointing two fingers at him. "Seriously, Charles? Could you just drop the act? I am not buying your concern. You want money and you would do anything to get it. Even manipulate me and use everything in my circumstances against me. Even our children. I know you'd like to avoid that trial because you know that you can't win it."

She leaned in closer and he could smell her perfume lingering in what little space was left between them. After all these years she was still wearing the same scent. "You might want to stop embarrassing yourself, Charles. I am fully prepared to go through this trial and I won't mind being attacked by your lawyer. I've worked in FID for years. You wouldn't believe how much abuse I can take without even flinching."

She dragged out the last word and only slowly closed her mouth again, suddenly looking every bit as dangerous as Barbara. For the first time he wondered whether she had been truthful when she'd told him that she was now someone else. Maybe she had matured and maybe this wasn't an act. He looked into her familiar green eyes and found an unfamiliar expression there. Sharon wasn't acting. She seemed strong but then she had no idea what was coming. While he was fully prepared to do whatever was necessary to get money from her, he already felt awful about hurting her. How was that even possible?

"Half a million," he said evenly. "and this will all go away."

She pulled her hands out of her pockets and crossed her arms in front of her chest, an unsettling grin spreading over her face.

"I think I will rather enjoy seeing you squirm in there, Charles." She gave him a small smile and walked past him into the court room. Charles remained in the same position and shook his head slightly. Sharon had no idea what she was up for and he hadn't been lying when he had told her that he'd rather avoid doing all that to her. Money, however, was more important than what was left of his feelings for his wife. And ultimately it was also more important than protecting her from the man she had chosen to spend the rest of her life with. Charles didn't trust Andy Flynn and he had a bad feeling that the man would end up hurting Sharon, but if she wouldn't listen, there was nothing he could do.

With a sigh he followed his wife into the court room.


	18. Chapter 18

**18**

**A/N**: Begins and ends with a flashback. Just to avoid confusion. ;-)

Sharon slid her pumps off her feet and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head and rolling her neck to work out the tension in her muscles. It had been a long day and yet a ton of paperwork was waiting to be finished while everyone else was celebrating both St. Patrick's Day and the fact that they had successfully solved their latest case. Making deals, however, meant paperwork. And lots of it. She sighed and grabbed her pen to begin to fill out another report form. Some days she hated the rules just as much as everyone else but she would never be caught admitting to it. There was a light knock on the door and she craned her neck before telling the caller to come in. With the blinds shut to avoid any distraction from her work, she had no way of knowing who it was but then she had a suspicion that proved to be true when Flynn stuck his head in and gave her a smooth smile.

"Captain, I have something to discuss with you. Can I come in?" She smiled back tentatively, trying not to look too eager. She liked the way he acted professionally without giving their relationship away to the others but still managed to be flirty enough to make her heart jump a little. Even after almost four months in a relationship with him, that little grin of his gave her butterflies in her stomach. She knew it was slightly immature to feel this way, not to mention completely unethical because she was his boss, but somehow she found it more and more difficult to care.

"Please do come in, Lieutenant."

He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, careful not to disturb the blinds and give anyone passing by outside a chance to spy on them.

"What it is?" she asked in a slightly seductive tone, watching him across the room as he walked towards her in that slow and unhurried way of his, hands in his pockets. His tie was loosened at this hour and his hair still looked slightly messed up from chasing their suspect across a mall today. Sharon was longing to run her hands through it.

"You seemed a little off today and I wondered why that is." She hadn't expected anyone to see her distress and her eyebrows shot up involuntarily in surprise. Despite his protectiveness, he didn't drop his flirty manner but came around the desk to perch on its edge. "Now?"

She reached out to play with his tie. Maybe she was doing it to busy her hands or maybe because it had become a strange little ritual of theirs, but the sensation of the cool silk beneath her fingertips calmed her down either way.

"You're brooding, but it's somewhat sexy," he told her and cupped her cheek, teasing her by slipping his forefinger behind her left ear to lightly massage her favorite spot. Sharon hummed and cocked her head to the right in order to give him better access. Being touched like that seemed to inevitably turn her into a catlike being that felt ready to purr.

"Not here," she rasped against his lips that were suddenly hovering over hers, never quite touching them. She felt his warm breath on her skin when his lips followed his fingers to her neck. "Andy, what if someone comes in?"

"It's St. Patrick's day," he said dismissively. "Provenza whipped out the cider and they're all in the conference room, getting drunk. I was sent to get you, actually," He was just murmuring his words, apparently quite distracted by her skin and the task of nibbling it slightly. Sharon knew that he was teasing her in order to get her to talk but she didn't really want to address the issue and having him seduce her was a lot more pleasurable. Then again, sex at the office was absolutely off-limits. Andy, however, notorious rule-breaker that he was, kept trying how far he could go before she stopped him. Today she didn't feel inclined to although she knew that she had to. For now she enjoyed how his free hand came to rest on her back rather possessively while his fingers began to massage the tension away.

"I've come to know you rather well, Captain I-do-not-show-my-feelings," he whispered into her ear, reacting to her going rigid at the comment by chuckling and biting her ear slightly. "I think I can pinpoint the beginning of your dark mood. Must have been the moment Sykes began to hand out wedding invitations." She gave a growl that was as much confirmation as Andy could ever need. "I don't suppose you are worried about what to wear because that wedding is still three months away, so I guess something else is bothering you."

He left it at that and gave her one of his cocky grins that she couldn't help but return, though weakly. She placed her hands on either of his shoulders and looked into his eyes, now ready to be honest.

"The way she came in beaming like that was an eery parallel to when I passed out wedding invitations to my college friends all those years ago." She gave an uncomfortable smile with her mouth closed firmly then shook her head. "It's ridiculous, really, but I can't help thinking about-" she stopped herself, unwilling to talk to Andy about her husband.

"About Charles?" Flynn asked, his face hardening slightly. He was the jealous type, she had discovered a while ago. He never really acted on it, never tried to restrict her freedom in any way but she could tell from the way he balled his fists or gritted his teeth sometimes. Today was no exception and she knew it irked him that she was still married to Charles.

She nodded as it was pointless to deny it now. "It's weird how little I usually think about him, but then there's a reminder like that one and I can't help wondering how he's doing. My kids say he's stopped drinking but I'm not so sure about the gambling, you know. He called me about a week ago but I was busy and never got around to calling him back."

"Did he make you happy back when you got married?" Flynn asked solemnly and she was instantly endeared by the fact that he was trying to be helpful despite the fact that he didn't like to think about her with someone else.

"He did at first." She couldn't deny it and she also couldn't help but smile at the memory of Charles' carrying her over the threshold of their new home. She remembered waking up to him lying next to her in bed, their small baby daughter on his chest, squealing happily at the funny faces he was making to entertain her. Life had been so different back then, so easy. "But then things changed." Their money had vanished. Small amounts at first, then larger ones and she had found herself cutting corners, wondering what was happening to her husband's rather large salary and then her smaller one, too, until she had found out about the gambling habit that was quickly developing into an addiction. And the drinking. And the women.

Andy leaned forward and kissed the spot behind her ear again. "Did he discover this?"

She giggled although just a second ago she'd been drowning in emotion. "No, he never did," she answered truthfully. Though protective and loving for the most part, Charles had never been as attentive as Andy was. They were simply two very different men with the same problem.

"That's good." Andy put his hands around her waist. "And Sykes' fellow sounds like a nice guy. I don't think you have to worry about her."

"Do I need to worry about her or anyone on our squad wandering into my office to find us while you have your hand well underneath my skirt?" she asked back, a little too aware of his fingertips wandering over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

"When I left Provenza was singing and Tao was teaching Sykes how to tango while Sanchez left to get more liquor. I have a strong feeling they have already forgotten I was ever there." He kissed her neck and sucked at the skin which made her worry – though only fleetingly – that he would mark her there. Coming out of her office after a meeting with her lieutenant sporting a hickey was about as obvious as it got. And yet it felt good. Increasingly painful, yes, but good. She gasped and he let go then began to kiss the sore area of skin instead.

"We could just lock the door," he whispered into her ear. She shook her head, laughing. While Charles had always made her feel boring and conservative, Andy's teasing caused her to be increasingly reckless. Why not, she wondered. If he was right and everyone was getting drunk in the conference room, they would have enough time to enjoy themselves here. And judging from the way their hands were already all over each other, neither of them would last very long.

"Only this once-" He cut her off by lifting her out of her chair and onto her desk with surprising ease. "And promise me something."

"Like what?" Andy's voice was husky and slightly muffled as he was already busy with her skirt. She placed a hand in his neck to force him to look at her.

"Don't worry about Charles. I don't love him anymore. I have stopped feeling anything for him a long time ago."

Andy grinned and captured her lips in a long, promising kiss, almost making her forget that while her first statement was true, the second was not.

* * *

Andy was nervously drumming his fingers against the side of his computer keyboard, earning him disapproving looks from both Provenza and Sykes who seemed just as relieved as he was when his call was finally answered and his previously restless fingers closed around the edge of his desk. The voice at the other end of the line sounded breathless at first, but then he realized that she was in fact breathing heavily but regularly.

"If this isn't important, I'll be really mad," Barbara puffed. "I'm on the treadmill at my firm's gym, showing those lazy ass first year associates what can be done in the course of a single lunch break." She took a deep breath after delivering the long sentence and Andy cut in quickly.

"I was just wondering where Sharon is. She said she was going to come straight to work after the hearing and she isn't answering her phone." He knew that he sounded desperate and he imagined Barbara pursing her lips while he could hear her hit the off-button as she stepped off the treadmill.

"That's certainly odd," she said, having caught her breath fast. "We split up a good two hours ago. She didn't mention any detours to me."

Andy got up from his desk to avoid the others overhearing what he was about to say and wandered off towards the break room that he hoped would be empty. "I haven't heard from her since this morning. How did it go?"

Barbara sighed. "She probably needs some time alone. The Cockroach's attorney pulled out all the stops and then some. They're challenging the prenuptial agreement, claiming that Sharon had some if not all of her money back when they got married. The agreement explicitly states that Charles has no claim only on anything Sharon acquired _during_ the marriage. It's ridiculous, though. He has absolutely no legal standing." He could hear her trainers creaking on the floor, then a door closed and she continued in the lawyer's voice she had assumed as soon as she had begun talking about the legal situation. He could now imagine that she was feared in court as her tone lacked all of the playfulness and warmth it was usually laced with.

"Then why is he doing it?" Andy asked. "He is still trying to get Sharon to settle, isn't he?"

"Damn right he is." The familiar note of disgust had crept back into Barbara's voice, replacing the professionalism. "The sole purpose of this whole charade is pressure. And lots of it. They handed in their witness list today. Guess who's on it."

Andy refrained from doing so, knowing that the prompt was of a purely rhetorical nature. Although he was able to conclude from the dismay in Barbara's tone that it had to be bad, he still did a double take when she told him.

"Philip Stroh, conveniently."

"Philip-?" His body didn't seem willing to obey him anymore and so Andy weakly lowered himself in to one of the plastic chairs. "What the hell would he be testifying to? And would they really take the risk of shipping him off to a court room for a simple divorce trial?"

"Apparently he and Charles went to law school together. Neither I nor Sharon ever met him back then but according to Charles they were quite close. He is supposed to testify that Sharon was wealthy even back then."

Andy snorted and lightly banged his fist against the table, making the abandoned cellophane cup that sat on it jump up into the air, spilling stale coffee everywhere. "Don't tell me the judge approved that. Sharon had to borrow money from her parents after splitting from Charles in order to pay the bills!"

Barbara sounded ready to strangle someone now. "Oh, he did grant it alright. That old misogynist is helplessly partial to duped husbands as one of which Charles ingeniously presented himself. They moved the next hearing to the first day of Stroh's murder trial so it won't be a stretch to get him to the court house."

"How did Sharon react?" Andy asked nervously, aware of the concern coloring his voice. Sharon had recovered well during her time with her mother and her doctor was satisfied with both her and her baby's health but he couldn't help but worry that Charles would somehow still manage to push her over the edge. Who knew what else the man had up his sleeve.

"You know how she is. She ended up reassuring me because back when I drew up the agreement I didn't think anyone would ever think to question the fact that she didn't have any money when they got married. That was a stupid beginner's mistake, I can tell you. She seemed okay when she left. Grim, understandably, but okay. Andy, I am sure she's fine."

Andy barely heard her words of comfort as he was too busy imagining the satisfying crack of Charles Graham's nose when he broke it. And he would, if anything had happened to Sharon.

* * *

Sharon leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes for a second, unsettled and nervous by what she was about to do. She had never been in the habit of giving in to threats, blackmail or pressure, but she also had her priorities. Her children were more important to her than any amount of money in the world or even than stating an example. She wasn't only worried about her unborn daughter but about her other children as well. Since their ugly confrontation back at her mother's house she hadn't heard from Laura and James seemed conflicted, too, when she spoke to him on the phone. Although neither of them had ever actually experienced life with two parents under the same roof, she knew that their separation and everything that all it entailed had always been hard on both of them. Their relationship with their father was still somewhat fragile and although no one had ever blamed her until Laura had two weeks ago, she knew that her sheltering her children from their drunken father had contributed to the problem. Back then it had seemed the logical choice but she still had the same doubts that had been keeping her awake at night twenty years ago. Being pulled into a messy divorce battle would make a difficult situation even more difficult for the both of them and Sharon didn't want to do that to them.

She opened the door and climbed out of her car, the heat of the day assaulting her in a violent change from the comfortably air-conditioned interior. She leaned against the door for a moment and pulled at the scarf she was wearing in order to distract curious onlookers from her now bulging stomach. She was lucky not to be showing as much as she had with her other two at this stage, but she still felt uncomfortable with people's stares. For now her scarves still did the job but in this heat the silk clung to her skin and made for quite the nuisance. Still, wearing it made her feel better, especially when it came to work-related matters as one was simply not as menacing with a baby bump. And work was where she was supposed to be going, she remembered uneasily. Her hand was trembling when she quickly went through her purse in search of her phone. As it was somewhere buried deep inside, she decided that calling Andy would have to wait.

Her heels clicked on the pavement when she crossed the forecourt and walked through the revolving doors of the Plaza Hotel. Inside she took a long, shuddering breath at the welcome sensation of cool air and relative silence. The young woman at the reception desk had curly blond hair that was a few shades too light to be natural and smiled at her with full, painted lips when she approached.

"What can I do for you, Ma'am?"

"My husband Charles Graham is staying here," Sharon said, both disgusted and wickedly amused by what she was about to do. "I don't know his room number but then I am here to surprise him." It took a lot out of her to produce the sugary smile she knew she needed to accompany her statement. The girl smiled.

"Okay then, Mrs Graham. It's room number 345. Here's the key card. Have a fun time."

She winked at Sharon who found herself having to hide a frown. Security at this hotel was truly laughable as she could have been anyone. The girl had also failed to notice the telltale bulge of the gun on her hip, disguised by her jacket but still fairly visible to the trained eye. The thought that anyone with a grudge would be able to come up with a little story like hers and was free to walk right in and shoot Charles in the head filled her with a curious mixture of concern and glee. She took the elevator to the forth floor and paused at the door of room number 345. The hotel was quiet at this hour, housing mostly people on business who only came here to sleep. The key card dug into her sweaty palm but she hesitated in order to gather herself. She would do exactly as she had decided she would back in the courtroom when Philip Stroh's name had been thrown into the mix. It had been the last straw, really, she thought. She would have been prepared to endure what was clearly going to be a long and painful trial, but she knew her children weren't. James and Laura weren't and Rusty wasn't either. Having Stroh interfere with other parts of their life was unacceptable and she knew that there was only so much her foster son could take. And then she had no idea what else Charles had up his sleeve. From what they had found on Ronnie's cell phone, she had a good idea of the lengths he was willing to go to, but her mind didn't work in the twisted ways his did and so she was unable to anticipate how exactly he would use what he had gathered to torture and discredit her. Barbara would be furious at her for giving up, even more so without consulting her first, but then Sharon was willing to try and talk sense into him first.

Eager to have the element of surprise work to her advantage at least once, she slid the key card through the scanner and opened the door. She stepped into the typical small corridor between the wall and the bathroom that opened into the larger sleeping area. The hotel was expensive but Charles was staying in a regular room so that it barely provided enough space for a bed, desk and and two uncomfortable, yet stylish-looking armchairs. Sharon was momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight that was streaming in through the bay windows but her hand twitched into the direction of her gun when she spotted what little she could see of the scene playing out in front of her.

Sometimes cop instincts worked faster and more accurately than any conscious line of thought could and so she found herself with her gun in both hands the very moment the blood registered with her. Cautiously she stepped forward, hands clenched around her gun. She was painfully aware of the fact that spending most of her career in FID had deprived her of a great deal of experience that officers in the field had, so she had to tread lightly and be careful. With a well-aimed kick, the bathroom door fell open and she pointed her gun at the darkness inside to quickly find that it was empty. Having made sure that nobody was lurking there, she proceeded to the actual hotel room and even though she could sense that she was alone with the motionless figure on the bed, she opened the wardrobe and checked under the bed and behind the heavy curtains that were just as tasteless as in every other hotel. Only when she was finally sure that there was no more danger, she secured her gun and fastened it to her hip to then rush towards the bed to check Charles' pulse. He opened his eyes at her touch and blinked against the light.

Sharon was bending over him in that equally efficient and concerned manner of hers that he had seen so many times back when he'd woken on the couch in their living-room, hungover as hell. She'd always been there with a cup of coffee, bottle of water and something to eat that he could hold down. Her hair was just as rich and beautiful as it had been then, he thought, watching it cascade down her shoulders, strands slightly curled in all directions at their ends. The sunlight illuminating the room from behind her brought out the trace of actual red in her hair that was so easily overlooked in duller lighting and always became more pronounced when she spent a lot of time outside. She was still wearing her suit and silk scarf she had been wearing in court so it had to be the same day. He looked into her concerned green eyes and found himself fascinated by the delicate lines that had appeared around them since he had last really looked at her face.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Her voice sounded far away at first and he shook his head slightly to clear it and chase away the drowsiness. There was blood on her hand, her fingers splayed, and for a moment he was worried about her, scared that she was hurt. But when he found her reaching down to apply some pressure to his shoulder, he realized that it was him and the memories came rushing back all at once. He watched her rummage around her handbag to find her phone.

"I'm calling an ambulance," she explained but he grabbed her arm weakly before she actually could dial 911.

"Sharon, no. It went clean through..." he murmured, distracted by the dull pain radiating through his bones.

"Don't be ridiculous, Charles. You will have to get yourself checked out anyway."

"They'll ask questions," he rasped. "There's a first aid box in the closet. Use that."

Sharon shot him a look of disbelief but somehow ended up walking over to retrieve the requested item. He watched her tear his blood-soaked shirt open where the bullet had hit and hissed when she began to clean the wound. Her eyes wandered towards the drops of blood that had sprayed the floor next to where he had hurled his jacket at one of the chairs and followed their trail towards the bed and the mess that were the formerly pristine white sheets.

"You weren't shot here," she stated while she did her best to clean his wound. Despite the sting that it caused him, he enjoyed the way she wiped the blood off his skin, reveling in the gentleness of her touch. He remembered the name of her perfume now, having bought it for her at several occasions in the past. Coco, by Chanel – as simply elegant as Sharon herself. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent deeply, picturing the characteristic flask sitting in her bathroom.

"Are you still with me?" Her voice sounded a little softer than it usually did and he hurried to open his eyes to assure her that he was indeed alright. He was tired from the blood loss but the pain was endurable even when she slid some pillows behind his back and helped him sit up propped against them. She poured a glass of water for him and handed it to him, making sure that he was strong enough to hold it before she let go. He caught her gaze flitting towards her phone and placed his free hand over hers. Her skin was soft underneath his touch and he felt a pang of jealousy at the idea of Flynn holding her hand.

"Don't call anyone. I promise I will go and see a doctor tomorrow." Then it occurred to him. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

After the terrified expression that had appeared on her face for a few seconds with the announcement that Stroh would testify just before she'd schooled her features into a perfectly neutral mask, he had expected her to be furious with him. Instead she was tending to his injuries with a worried look in her eyes.

"I came to talk to you," she said simply, her voice hardening. "If you continue like this, you'll end up hurting our children. They've already gone through enough and I don't want them to suffer any more than they already have."

Was this the prelude to an offer, Charles wondered, suddenly hopeful. Would his problems all go away this quickly indeed? His momentary enthusiasm died the moment he saw his wife's face and realized the implications of what she had just said.

His children.

"Laura isn't talking to me anymore, you know." Sharon's voice sounded hurt and she wasn't looking at him, angrily stuffing bandages and wipes back into the first aid box instead. "Not after she came to my mother's house and accused me of being codependent on Andy who she thinks is a raging alcoholic." Her gaze was piercing and somewhat unforgiving when she finally raised her eyes to meet his. "Andy is none of these things and you know that. He actually makes me happier than I have ever been in a relationship. At first I thought you were trying to poison that and that you would do anything to scam me out of money due to a change in your nature, but I think I was wrong. You were never vicious, Charles, and I don't think you are now." She placed her hand on his shoulder and for a moment he wasn't sure whether it was supposed to be a reassuring gesture or whether she was trying to cause him a little pain so he would give her his full attention. "I am a cop. I recognize a professional hit when I see one. What did you get yourself into and who is the person you owe so much money to?"

* * *

"Well, Captain Raydor, I have a certain suspicion as to what might be causing your symptoms." The white-haired old man looked as if he had stepped straight out of a cliched old movie about a kind doctor and Sharon felt oddly calmed by his mere presence. She shakily returned his warm smile and wondered whether he was about to give her bad news. For weeks she had been feeling constantly exhausted and dizzy. For a few days now she was unable to keep anything down in the mornings and she knew that these occurrences could not be appointed to the stress of the job. She was lucky that cancer did not run in her family at all, but that didn't mean that it wasn't a possibility and it scared the hell out of her.

"I wasn't sure at first because of your age, but in a younger woman your symptoms would be pretty self-explanatory."

She needed a moment to understand and clasped her hand over her mouth. "That's impossible!" she exclaimed, suddenly terrified in a completely different way.

"Captain, you're in excellent shape physically and as far as I can conclude from the form you filled out so expertly, menopause is not an issue yet."

Sharon felt it better to not say anything as he was right. Never in a million years would it have occurred to her that her nausea could actually be morning sickness or that the particular type of exhaustion she'd been experiencing seemed familiar from more than twenty years ago.

"Have you been using protection?"

Sharon blushed furiously. She didn't mind sharing intimate details with medical personnel if it was necessary to be diagnosed, but she suddenly felt hugely embarrassed by the fact that she still hadn't gotten around to getting her birth control prescription refilled. At her and Andy's ages, it hadn't really felt like a priority and she now realized how stupid that had been. There had certainly been instances when they were completely careless. Like a few weeks ago on Saint Patrick's Day, it suddenly occurred to her, when they had been careless in more than just one way. Her cheeks were burning now but she kept silent as common decency surely dictated not to tell an old doctor about having had sex with her subordinate-slash-boyfriend on a desk in her office.

"Well, Captain Raydor, it does seem possible to me. Increasingly so after your physical. You seem awfully sensitive to touch and smell."  
Sharon felt ready to bury her face in her hands to avoid having to look at the man.

"I can see that you're a little overwhelmed," he said kindly. "Why don't you take a seat in our waiting room until your blood results are back?"

Sharon rose to her feet and clasped her hand around her phone as she stumbled back into the corridor and made her way down to the waiting room. She needed to call Andy who had been the one to convince her to see a doctor in the first place but then she couldn't very well tell him over the phone that she was quite probably- She looked up from where she'd been scrolling through her contacts and took her glasses off with an exasperated sigh. This had to be a nightmare. A twisted, strange nightmare that she would laugh at as soon as she woke up, feeling rested and neither nauseous nor dizzy. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and paused to reach out a hand to steady herself against the wall.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" The friendly young nurse who had taken her blood sample earlier placed her hand on Sharon's arm. "Do you need some water?"

Sharon nodded silently, sliding her glasses into her pocket. Sometimes, when everything seemed too much, she liked the world around her to appear a little blurred and therefore less threatening. A moment later her fingers closed around a comfortingly cool plastic cup of water. The nurse steered her towards the waiting area where Sharon politely said her goodbyes and took a large sip of water. She narrowed her eyes to be able to focus on her phone when rather loud footsteps could be heard behind her. Turning around on her heel, she found a man in the distance, talking on his phone also.

"I am working on it right now," she could hear his voice that sounded oddly familiar. _Charles_? She tried to make out the shape of the man but failed and was left watching him get on the elevator. The whole conversation with the doctor must have caused her to hallucinate, she scolded herself. Charles lived on the East Coast and would certainly not happen to wander around the same hospital she was seeking treatment at. The last thing she heard him say before the doors closed was almost lost on her and, her mind preoccupied, she had already forgotten about it before the words could actually register.

"I have a plan that will get me the full amount, okay? There is absolutely no need to interfere. And by all means: Leave my wife alone!"


	19. Chapter 19

**19**

Sharon Raydor walked into the Murder Room in one of her quiet, yet powerful entrances, Charles Graham trailing behind her like a shunned dog that knew it had screwed up. Her squad looked up from their desks at the sound of heels and turned to face her and the unwelcome visitor. Charles Graham didn't look good, Andy noticed. His left shoulder was sagging slightly, as if he could not quite work the muscles there and his face was tense and of a sickly color. Sharon turned around and faced him in the cool, detached way that she always had about her when she was dealing with suspects or other people she did not like. She had just slipped on her professional mask, Andy knew, and it reassured him.

"Charles, please accompany Lieutenant Tao and Detective Sanchez to the interview room and give them the statement you have just given me. Buzz." She nodded at the technician who hurried into the Media Room.

"Everyone else in the conference room."

They filed into the room one by one and Andy felt Sharon's hand brush his side for the shortest of moments. When he looked up at her, she was smiling faintly. The gesture was both comforting and somewhat troubling to Andy. Just an hour ago she'd called him and asked him to put her on speakerphone to inform the squad that she was currently with Charles Graham whom she would bring with her to the office. Raised eyebrows and surprised snorts had been the pivotal emotion all around as, by now, everyone had heard how ruthless Charles was acting in court. Why she would be with him was beyond Andy and jealousy was rearing its ugly head inside him. Her smile and the fact that she was acknowledging their personal relationship just when they were about to walk into a team meeting during which she would address him as "Lieutenant Flynn" meant that she felt he needed reassurance. Or that she felt guilty.

Sharon was the last one to enter the room and so she closed the door behind her before she sat down at the head of the table. Sykes, Flynn and Provenza were all looking at her expectantly and she tried to set her feelings aside and act professionally. She would have to acknowledge the emotional turmoil later, she decided, as right now she needed to do her job.

"I found Charles Graham two hours ago in his hotel room. He was shot in the left shoulder by an assailant that he met with an hour prior at a rest stop between the inner city and his hotel." She swallowed. "He lost some blood but I got him checked out by a friend of mine who is a doctor and he will be fine."

She could see that no one around the table was rejoicing over that particular piece of information but she felt it was necessary to include in order to tell her story.

"Charles wasn't shot to actually kill or badly wound him. It was clearly a warning and he seems to have realized that he can't deal with this on his own." She was close to rolling her eyes at Charles' ability to screw things up and then make everything worse by trying to clean the mess up himself. While he was a good lawyer, he was lacking the ability to foretell the consequences of his actions in about every other part of his life. She had often wondered whether he had chosen the law in the first place because it assigned a legal consequence to every action, therefore providing clarity as to what they would entail.

"It seems that Charles moved on from gambling at casinos to bigger and better things," she said sarcastically, depending on her snark in order to be able to distance herself from the story she was about to tell. It didn't help that the main character in it was still her husband and she would have preferred to refer to him as "Mr Graham" but that would have sounded weird even to her own ears. "He dabbled in real estate and came across a project that promised to return huge sums once it was well on the way. Unfortunately it involved the bribing of city officials and a good amount of blackmail, too. Charles, however, was either blinded by the amount of money that was promised or chose to ignore the illegal aspect of it all." She had to try very hard to keep the disgusted tone out of her voice. "Things went down the drain and he ended up owing a lot of money to the initiators who happen to be somehow connected to the Polish mob. He doesn't know who the initiators are, so it's our job to get their names somehow." She swallowed. "As for the debt, we're talking roughly 600.000 dollars here."

Provenza gave a deep, guttural groan that pretty much summed up what Sharon had been feeling when she'd been told. The involvement of the mob was always messy, dangerous and probably too much to handle for the LAPD, which was why she had already called Brenda's husband on her way over to the office. Finding out who exactly was pulling the strings, however, would be even harder as they had covered their tracks well.

"This is the kind of people who do not believe in lawyers and court rooms so they didn't sue him but threatened him instead. His family, to be more precise." A shudder went through her at the idea and she gripped the armrest of her chair tightly under the table. "He got both of our children summer jobs on the west coast so they would be far away but hired guns don't give up that easily."

The image of Charles' pained face appeared in her mind. "._..then Philip called and asked me to defend him in his murder trial. He offered a lot of money which would go a long way to paying back my debt._" His voice had the same whiny quality that she'd heard a thousand times before back when they'd been married and he'd been trying to atone for his many mistakes. "_That's when I stumbled over the connection to you pretty much the same day I got served the divorce papers. I figured that by using the fact that Rusty's living with you I could kill two birds with one stone._" Sharon hated the feeling that came along with realizing that one had been set up, that one's life had been invaded and probed without one knowing about it. She saw sympathy in Sykes' face and anger in Provenza's while Andy's features remained perfectly smooth for the moment, only the slight twitch of the left corner of his mouth hinting at the anger that was contained inside him.

"Charles decided to use Ronnie Beck to gather information that would both help him discredit Rusty on the stand and put pressure on me to agree to a divorce settlement. He was going to use my money to pay back his debt."

"How is this part of our case?" Andy finally asked skeptically. "Did he kill Ronnie Beck? Was he involved in Rusty's kidnapping? Because then I suggest we nail that son of a bitch. He'll be well protected from the mob in jail."

Provenza gave a grunt of approval and Sharon caught Sykes rolling her eyes at the men.

"He says he wasn't involved but he did hand over the information that I have a foster son living with me. There's a good chance that the mob is involved, especially since one of the kidnappers is one Victor Karkaroff who happens to be of Polish decent. I doubt that's a coincidence."

"How do we proceed, Captain?" Sykes asked, efficient as always.

"I called Agent Howard on my way over. He'll handle things while we will take second chair, so to speak, as it is technically their jurisdiction." She ignored the annoyed clicking of Provenza's tongue. "As to the kidnapping, we will have to involve Commander Stevens." The prospect wasn't especially tempting but the rules said so and she was not about to break any of them in a delicate situation like this one. "I would like to stay involved but I have to do so at the outskirts of this case as this is about my husband and my children." She trained her eyes on Provenza and Flynn. "I expect full cooperation with the other departments involved. There can't be any solo attempts, understood?"

"Aye, Captain." She nodded and placed her hands on the table in front of her. "Okay. This has just evolved from the investigation of a kidnapping and a related murder to a huge investment scandal that involves the mob. We all need to be very careful that none of this gets out. Both trials will have to go forward as if nothing had changed and I don't want anything to leak, okay? We cannot risk them finding out about Charles' cooperating with us."

"Sure, Captain." Sykes nodded eagerly.

"Then please join Buzz in the monitor room now and you, Lieutenant Provenza, greet Agent Howard and assure him of our full cooperation in this matter. I will join you shortly." She rose from her chair and left the room to seek refuge inside her office where she sat at the desk and rested her head on her arms. This thing was getting peskier by the minute and she couldn't help but worry about her children. Charles' creditors had upped the pressure now and she was no longer sure that they would continue to stay away from his family. Due to the long period of time that they had been legally separated for, she didn't worry much for herself but Laura and James were definitely targets. Fritz Howard had promised to arrange protection for the both of them but she was nervous because of the fact that Laura wasn't taking her calls. She had been doing so for days now, but today she couldn't help but wonder whether it was anger at her or something more sinister.

The door opened and Andy burst in without knocking, diving right into the conversation he seemed eager to have. "You're helping that bastard, Sharon?"

"I'm protecting Laura and James and yes, I am helping him. He is the father of my children and I don't want him to get hurt."

Andy shook his head in disbelief and she was unable to tell how much of his anger was caused by jealousy. "And did he care about you getting hurt, Sharon? I believe him when he says that he wanted to protect his children but he did it at the cost of hurting you. Do you remember his attempt to use our baby against you? Or how he was completely uncooperative on the Ronnie Beck case? The way he had her find out things about your life and disclose them to him so he could use them against you in court? He couldn't have cared less if you'd lost our baby due to all the stress he was causing you and now you want to _protect_ him?"

He was gesticulating with sharp and forceful movements but then he froze and dropped his arms, shaking his head in defeat. She shied away from his expectant look and folded her arms defensively.

"I know all that and I don't say I forgive him but this is bigger than my personal feelings, Andy, and it is bigger than yours."

"You have a habit to make everything impersonal, Sharon."

She stood up to level with him. "Did you just choose this moment of all moments to bring this up?"

"I did. But maybe that's not even what this is about. Maybe your reluctance to get divorced and to build a life with me has everything to do with the way you're still attached to your husband!"

Sharon rarely raised her voice but today she felt like screaming at the top of her lungs. She should have acknowledged the fact that he looked hurt and confused by the words that were tumbling out of his own mouth, but she was about to blow a fuse which put her well beyond the point of reason.

"That is bullshit, Andy!" she hissed at him, both hands now on her desk so she was glaring at him over the top of her glasses. "I am in the middle of a nasty legal battle that I have initiated myself by filing for divorce to be able to marry you. I almost got fired from my job because of our relationship. I stood up to my daughter for you. How much more commitment do you need?" She wasn't sure at which point she had started yelling at him but she could see from the shocked look on his face that she had been doing so for quite some time.

"Okay, Lieutenant Flynn," she forced out from between gritted teeth. "We will continue this at home later. This is not the place to live out our personal relationship."

"Oh, is it not?" Andy asked in a hollow, angry voice that she had never heard before. "Because I remember you living out our relationship on this very desk alright." He banged his fist against the desk, making her jump. "You always conveniently remind me of the rules whenever you feel the need to hide behind them." He paused and then added "Captain".

For a moment they stared at each other across the table like two prowling animals then he straightened and walked towards the door. "Don't expect me home tonight. I think we both need a little space. I'll be staying over at Provenza's."

He closed the door behind him softly without another open display of the anger she knew he was still feeling and Sharon closed her hand around the badge on her belt. She was a police officer and this was what she would act like when she came out. She had the FBI to deal with and Charles to sort out. There was a threat to her family that she needed to eliminate and that forbade her from giving in to the urge to cry and run after Andy. He would come around, she told herself. And there was not much else to tell him anyway. Sharon buttoned her blazer and smoothed it down over her belly then adjusted her scarf and took a deep breath before she went to meet Provenza and Fritz.

* * *

"Great," Rusty threw the door shut behind him and noisily dropped his backpack by the door. "Why did you have a patrol car pick me up _again_? Things were going great with the guys at swim practice and then that cop showed up to pick me up. Now they think I am a total nerd." He marched into the living-room and took a soda out of the fridge then walked over to the couch where Sharon was resting, wrapped in a blanket and holding a cup of tea. When he saw her hair messily piled up on the top of her head and the comfortable clothes she was wearing, he remembered that today had been the first day of her divorce trial and he instantly felt guilty for snapping at her.

"Rusty." She sat her cup down and reached out for him. "I'm sorry if you got embarrassed but I didn't want you out there alone on the bus."

He frowned. "Did something happen?"

She gestured for him to sit down next to her on the couch and he did so, feeling a familiar sense of panic welling up inside and dread slowly building as she told him about her ex-husband and the fact that his family was being threatened.

"I'm the one with the money so I figure they'll still try to go after you. James and Laura are staying with my mother until this is over. Would you like to go, too?"

Rusty crossed his arms defensively. He was well past the point where he thought that Sharon was trying to get rid of him; this was different.

"But what about you, Sharon?"

"Me?" She waved his concerns away in much the same manner she had his apology way back when he had accused her of trying to get rid of him in front of Provenza. "I'll be fine."

"As you said, you're the one with the money. I don't see how you could possibly not be a target."

"You don't have to protect me, Rusty." Sharon smiled at him and grabbed his hand.

Suddenly something occurred to Rusty. "Where's Andy? It's past eight."

"He's staying with Provenza tonight," Sharon said a little too lightly.

"He's staying with Provenza when there's a threat to you?" Rusty asked incredulously. "Did you two have a fight or something?" He could see that Sharon was conflicted about whether she should tell him about whatever had happened so he squeezed her hand firmly. "You don't have to worry, Sharon. I do realize that couples fight. I'll get over it, but you will feel better as soon as we had that talk."

"One appointment with a psychologist and you become one yourself," Sharon murmured.

"Not necessary. You get that look in your eyes when you need to talk."

Sharon pulled her blanket towards herself so Rusty would have enough space to pull his feet up on the couch and backed into one corner. She took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose before she looked at her foster son again.

"He thinks I am still hung-up on Charles because I insisted on us helping him through this whole ordeal. I disagreed, maybe a little too loudly-" she shrugged self-consciously. "And then we treated each other with icy politeness for the rest of the day."

"Awesome." Rusty sighed. "Idiots in love."

For just a moment Sharon looked genuinely irritated then her features softened and she shook her head. "And what's that supposed to mean, Rusty?"

"It means," Rusty melodically dragged out the last word in a subtle imitation of his foster mother's way of speaking. "that I couldn't help but notice that the two of you just can't seem to find the words to talk to each other sometimes. I am sure that you didn't just say 'Andy, I love you so much and I really want to be with you and not with Charles. The reason why I don't want to buy a house yet is that I don't want to jinx anything before I can be sure that our baby will be okay.' Period."

He released a jolt of laughter at Sharon's sheepish expression. "I don't think I did," she admitted, quite obviously embarrassed.

"I know I am not very good at talking about my feelings either, but you two are just absurd."

Sharon smiled tentatively. "You make it sound so easy."

"It is, really." Rusty rolled his eyes at her forlorn expression. "He's a guy, Sharon. One you can order around at work. And in your private life you have a very dominant personality, too." Sharon opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her. "No, no. I don't mean that as an insult. You're great, you're always taking charge, but I think that sometimes he worries that you think that he's just that cuddly lovable old dog who follows you around wherever you go, that you don't love him as much as he loves you."

"Rusty, you're scaring me. Are you sure you're only seventeen?"

"Painfully so," he affirmed.

Sharon looked down at her hands. "Maybe you're right and maybe he does need some reassurance from time to time."

Rusty bowed his head. "Barbara is wrong. You aren't too stubborn to take advise after all."

"Did she say that?" Sharon called after Rusty who was already ducking out of her way and walked over to the kitchen to get something to eat. "Did she? Rusty! Answer me!"

Sharon picked up a pillow and threw it at her foster son, giggling at the way he turned around slowly, having caught the flying object gracefully in his right hand. "Be nice, Sharon, or I won't keep you company tonight. And I have something special planned for you."

She raised both eyebrows. "You do?"

"Oh, yes. And I'm talking Battlestar Galactica here."

Sharon groaned. "I don't like spaceships!" Rusty silenced her by throwing the pillow back at her. She caught it and hugged it to her chest, hoping that somewhere Andy was getting an earful from Provenza much like she had.

* * *

She was awake with a start and looked around the darkened living-room, feeling disoriented. Next to her on the couch Rusty was fast asleep with the remote in his hand, light snores escaping his gaping mouth while the blue ray menu of Battlestar Galactica kept flickering mutely across the television screen. Sharon stretched her legs and rubbed her belly, receiving a tiny kick in return. Today at work, with her team and several young FBI agents frantically marching from one end of the Murder Room to the other and back while bristling with efficiency, she had felt slow and useless with the constant ache in her calves and lower back. Maybe it was time to give up the high heels but she couldn't remember when she'd last worn anything else than her trusted Manolo Blahniks to work. She imagined herself living in a new house with Andy, Rusty and their baby daughter. It would be another round of sports practice, carpooling, birthday parties, first days of school and obnoxious kindergarten teachers to deal with. She hadn't expected to do it again, but then this time around she wouldn't be a single mother. She would still have to juggle family life and her job, but she would have Andy by her side. She stared at the digits of the VCR clock and sighed, reaching for her cell phone on the table. It was past midnight, but from what she heard about Provenza's and Flynn's boy's nights, they'd still be up watching dumb comedy and eating chips. She was about to scroll down towards Andy's name in her caller list when his name came up on the screen by itself, signaling an incoming call. Sharon smiled and picked up the phone, hoping that he was ready to come home. Before she could even greet Andy, his frantic voice filled her head.

"Sharon, one of the guys the Charles identified from the database is about to enter your apartment building. They put a want out and a cruiser from your neighborhood identified him. Lock your door and take cover, I'm coming in and backup's on the way."

"Andy-" she began, but the line went dead. She dropped her phone on to the couch and got to her feet as quickly as possible to walk to the door and reach for the deadbolt. Then suddenly something occurred to her. Ronnie Beck had been executed with a single shot between the eyes. These people were professionals who didn't shy away from shooting their enemies point blank. The thought of Flynn being hurt or ending up dead in front of her apartment terrified her and she suddenly felt nauseous. It simply wasn't in Sharon's nature to hide inside her apartment while someone she loved was in mortal danger. She brought her hands to her swollen belly, unsure of what to do. She couldn't deny that she wasn't as agile as she used to be and she knew that Andy would be furious with her for disobeying his orders and risking her life again. Taking a deep breath, she walked into her bedroom and took her gun from the closet, sliding the safety off quietly. With another look at the sleeping Rusty in the living-room, she crept towards the door, her gun in both hands and peered through the peephole. There was no one outside and all she could see was the empty corridor and the painting mounted on the opposite wall. She lowered her gun and pressed her palm against the door. Would she be safe behind it if someone chose to fire at it? Her heart was beating furiously inside her chest and her mouth was too dry to swallow as the seconds ticked by painfully slowly.

Although it didn't come as that much of a surprise, the gunshot resonating through the building startled her. She looked outside again but saw nothing but the quiet semi-darkness of her floor. There was another moment of silence before two more gunshots ripped through the night, sounding closer this time. Sharon couldn't take it anymore. She slowly opened the door and walked out on her stocking feet, pointing her gun at both sides of the corridor. Nothing but stillness. Judging from the echo the gunshot had caused, she guessed that they were inside the stairwell and so she slowly pried the door open and stepped into the full blaze of light that was there. Not wanting to alert them to her presence, she closed the door quietly behind her and slowly made for the bannister. Carefully she stuck her head out - and recoiled.

What she saw made her heart stop: On the landing below, Andy lay sprawled in a pool of blood. Her first instinct was to run down the stairs to see whether he was alive but then she needed to cover herself. What if the assailant was still there? She crept towards the stairs slowly, carefully sticking her head out to see whether anyone else was hiding there.

"Freeze! This is the police!" A shout came from downstairs, almost making her knees buckle with temporary relief.

"This is Captain Raydor, LAPD!" she yelled. "Call an ambulance! We have an officer down!"

Hearing the words leave her mouth made the information fully sink in and she had to stifle a sob when she hurried down the stairs and got down on her knees next to Andy's still form. She didn't mind that she was in sweatpants and one of Andy's t-shirts or that her knees were wet where the blood she was kneeling in had soaked the fabric. Footsteps were approaching on the stairs but all she could think of was Andy. She whispered his name and reached out to feel his pulse, her eyes frantically searching his body for the wound the blood was coming from but in her shocked state she didn't manage to find out. She took his hand in hers and pressed her lips against his still warm knuckles, willing him to stay with her.

She was crying by the time a warm hand came to rest on her shoulder and she wouldn't have been able to say how much time had passed.

"Sharon." It was Rusty who crouched down next to her and his voice momentarily drowned out the noises of the team of paramedics that came running down the stairs from her floor. "He'll be okay. You need to get up now."

She let him help her to her feet but refused his embrace in order to be able to keep an eye on Flynn whom she could barely see anymore as he was surrounded by paramedics now.

"He's breathing," one of them said. "Get a stretcher. We need to bring him in right away."

"What happened?" Provenza appeared seemingly out of nowhere and took in Sharon's appearance, his eyes widening. For a moment his attention deviated from Flynn as he focused on her. "Are you hurt?"

Sharon shook her hand, unable to keep her trembling body still. "It's not my blood." Her voice broke and she was grateful for Rusty's arm around her waist. "Andy called and told me there was someone here to attack me, then I heard gunshots..."

She stepped aside as the stretcher was carried past her and made to follow the paramedics to the ambulance. Provenza fell into step with her, his hand firmly attached to her elbow.

"I thought he was with you," she choked. "How did he get here so fast?"

Provenza shook his head. "He wasn't, Sharon. He was really angry with you, but he wouldn't leave you when there's someone out to get you. He was sitting in his car watching the house." He shook his head and almost laughed at the image before a dark expression came over his face as he realized that Andy's chivalry might as well cost him his life. They burst through the door into the cool night but Sharon didn't feel the chill. One look at Andy's familiar maroon car that was parked across the street brought fresh tears to her eyes but she wiped them away and followed Provenza to his car.

With screeching tires, they made to follow the ambulance to the hospital.

**A/N**: Uah, we're nearing the end. Thanks for your support! I appreciate it a lot! There'll be some more flashbacks along the way to fill the gaps between the end of "Rusty Beck - Marriage Broker" and "Incubus", so if you have any suggestions or want to read about something in particular, let me know! :)


	20. Chapter 20

**20**

"_You're drunk, baby," Andy says, earning a giggle from Sharon who is pressing her cheek into his shoulder while holding on to his arm. _

"_Accusations, accusations," she says, causing him to give her a puzzled stare. _

_"Excuse me?"_

"_What makes you think I'm drunk?" she clarifies, slurring her words a little. She is adorable even with whiskey on her breath. Honestly, never having seen her having more than two glasses of white wine, he is surprised that she's still standing after the countless glasses Provenza has poured her._

"_You're staggering and your speech is slurred."_

_She bites his ear playfully. "I'm not staggering. I'm waaalking on air, whoops." He catches her before she can fall into someone's front garden and she throws her arms around him. He leans down and captures her lips in a gentle kiss, relieved to find her still lucid enough to return it passionately. When they come apart, she is wearing the most radiant smile he's ever seen._

"_Carry me to the car, I'll drive you home," she says and then breaks into a giggling fit that doesn't stop for several minutes. Andy finds it safe to assume that she doesn't need a lecture on driving under the influence as she's been merely joking. Her laughter suddenly stops and she places a soft kiss on his cheek. "Don't worry. I'll break the rules only for you."_

"_Now, what does that mean?"_

_Her smile is dreamy as she is tracing his chin with the back on her forefinger and he adjusts her lopsided glasses, grinning. "Well, we should not be doing this at all."_

"_Spending new year's eve with Provenza?"_

_She wraps her arms around his torso and snuggles close, looking up at him. "Being in a relationship, stupid."_

_He can't contain the sudden feeling of excitement that is bubbling up inside him. So far they've been dating but they have never actually discussed whether they are actually serious._

"_So we are? In a relationship?"_

_She chuckles. "What would you call us? Fuck buddies?" She giggles again as if the notion is the most absurd thing she's ever heard. "You met my mother and my kids. I never introduced any of the guys I was intimate with to them."_

"_That is so nice to hear," Andy says and wraps his arm around her waist. "Let me get you home, sweetheart." He pauses and then kisses the top of her head, murmuring a barely audible 'love you' into her hair. From the grin on her face, however, he can tell that she's heard._

_And suddenly there's darkness. Pain. A flash of light and a weird pattern in front of his eyes. He tries to focus but can't make out the details. There's an unfamiliar voice floating around the room but he can't locate where it is coming from. He tries to move but his body won't obey him and he is propelled back into the darkness._

* * *

Fritz Howard was no stranger to gruesome sights but what he saw upon entering the hospital waiting area made him freeze in his tracks. Maybe it was because he knew Sharon Raydor personally and had always respected and even liked her or maybe it was the sheer amount of blood. Either way, the sight of such a powerful symbol of death and injury smeared across Sharon's round belly that spoke of fertility and life chilled him to the bone. She was sitting in one of the white hospital chairs wearing gray sweatpants that were soaked in blood from the knees down and splattered with smaller drops around her thighs. She was wearing a simple light blue man's t-shirt that was a few sizes too big for her and revealed one naked shoulder - a detail that made her look even more vulnerable. Her hair was matted and flattened on one side of her head and there were smears of blood on her shirt where she was pressing her bloodied palms against her stomach. She wasn't wearing shoes, he noticed and her fluffy white socks were soaked in crimson, too. He could tell from the way her shoulders went up and down that she was trying to calm herself by breathing deeply but she was too close to hysteria to actually succeed. Next to him he heard the shocked gasp of his wife and turned to look at her, healthy and whole and beautiful in a pink dress and ballerinas.

She didn't look back at him but strode forward immediately, rapidly approaching Sharon. He remembered her endless tirades about how uncooperative, annoying and condescending "that woman" had been but he also remembered how Brenda's attitude had gradually begun to change until one day he'd realized that his wife had taken a liking to the captain, though grudgingly. She wasn't the motherly type, he'd had to accept that a long time ago, but she had her nurturing moments and this was one of them. He watched Brenda lean down and gently touch Sharon's bare arm.

"Hey," she drawled and he could see from the look in Sharon's eyes that the familiar Southern accent was a comfort to her. "Lieutenant Provenza called me. I brought some clothes and shoes for you," Brenda continued. "Let's go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up, okay?" Sharon looked about to protest but then she looked down herself and winced as if she had just noticed her state for the very first time.

"Okay." Her voice was far from her usual tone, sounding almost airy and her usual self-assured stride was replaced with small, hesitant steps that instilled concern that she might slip and fall any minute. Brenda put an arm around her shoulders and held the bathroom door open for her, giving Fritz a rueful smile. The door closed and he turned to find Provenza approaching with two steaming paper cups. Sometimes he forgot how old Provenza was, but today every single line in his face was enhanced by both the unforgiving lights and the pain that had etched itself into his face somewhere during this night.

"He's still in surgery," he rasped. His eyes flitted towards Sharon's empty seat and he tensed. "Where's Sharon? Is she okay?" A bit of what Fritz now could see was tea spilled over the rim of the cup and onto his hands. Provenza swore.

"She's in the bathroom with Brenda. She brought some clothes for her."

"And shoes?" Provenza asked in an uncharacteristically small voice.

"And shoes," Fritz assured him and received a distracted nod.

"Good. The last thing she needs is to catch a cold." Provenza's hands were trembling, his complexion grayish. For a moment Fritz was wondering whether he was about to have a heart attack but then he brought one of the cups to his lips and grimaced. "Goddamn, it's Sharon's. She likes it really sweet since she got pregnant." He set the cup aside and drank from the other, apparently satisfied with the taste this time around.

"Okay, so what it is you couldn't tell me over the phone?" Provenza now asked and Fritz could tell that he was yearning for a distraction. Just a moment when he didn't have to think about the fact that his best friend was fighting for his life just a few yards away, behind the frosted glass doors that led towards the operating suites. Fritz took a look around and leaned in slightly.

"Your Detective Sykes came up with something. She said that usually mob guys' lawyers are worth looking into as they tend to stick to one once they have found someone they can trust."

Provenza frowned but then realization dawned on his face. "Karkaroff's lawyer. Gideon Craig!"

"Exactly." Fritz lowered his voice even more for fear of being overheard. "We checked out the clients he represented over the past two years and we found several names that could fit. Some of them are in jail so we can track them down easily. We'll start questioning them first thing in the morning."

Both of their gazes turned towards the dark sky outside the window. Right now it didn't seem possible that the sun would rise again any time soon or even at all.

* * *

_The darkness that felt so cold and lonely just a moment ago has changed. It now feels velvety and full of exciting secrets. There's a presence here with him and when he reaches out, his fingertips brush soft flesh. The breath against his neck is Sharon's. He knows it before he opens his eyes. A strand of her hair falls across his face when she leans down to kiss him._

"_Where are you going?" he asks drowsily, reaching out to hold her back._

"_Just getting some coffee," she purrs, smiling against his cheek. His hands roam her bare back and close around her hips as he marvels at how delicate and soft the skin above her hipbones is. _

"_It's the middle of the night," he murmurs. "Don't go away."_

_Her laughter is musical and more relaxed than he's ever heard before. "Rusty is going to be home in an hour and our clothes are still strewn half across the condo. And I don't think he'll appreciate the idea that we were rolling around naked on the couch."_

_Andy grunts in grudging agreement and releases her. She doesn't get up right away but remains on the side of the bed, still naked. He looks up at her gives her a grin that is supposed to remind her of how great last night was. First times are often awkward but they have found their rhythm pretty quickly. There is very little room for improvement, he thinks, and begins to calculate how much time two showers and a coffee will take so they can spend the remaining time doing more pleasurable things. _

_Sharon returns and sets two mugs of coffee down on her chaotic bedside table. It's something he didn't know about her. He opened the drawer with curiosity when she was in the bathroom last night and discovered a lovable chaos. She takes a sip of coffee, dutifully, it seems and climbs back under the covers with him. He feels her smooth naked leg against his and reaches out to pull her up a little, his hand comfortably settled in her knee bend. She kisses his chest and smiles up at him._

"_I don't think I ever want to spend a night without you again." _

_This is surprising coming from her, especially since they have just spent their very first night together. She seems playful this morning and trails little kisses down his arms. "You're so warm. I sleep a lot better when you're next to me."_

_He squeezes her hand. "You won't have to, if you don't want to, Sharon. I'm not going anywhere."_

_Her laughter fades until only its faint echo prevails and his hands start a frantic search for her but there is only emptiness and darkness again._

* * *

Brenda locked the bathroom door and turned towards Sharon who was hugging herself, her eyes dull. She tried to find the vivid green she was used to but saw only puffiness and fear. Sharon was in shock - that much was obvious - and she needed to get her out of her blood-soaked clothes and into something warm. Brenda turned on the tap and waited for the water to heat then grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them. She reached out and Sharon flinched slightly, but then allowed her to wash the drops of blood away from her temple where she had probably pushed her hair back with her stained hands earlier. She tied her long hair back with the offered hair tie and then stepped forward on her own accord to scrub her hands and arms with soap. Brenda watched the light red water twirl in the sink and then disappear down the drain. The idea that all this dried blood on her was Andy Flynn's made her feel queasy. She had worked with him for too long to not call him a friend and the prospect of having to mourn him seemed too horrible to even consider. She was glad that Fritz was waiting for her outside and she could only imagine how it felt for Sharon who was carrying Andy's baby that he might never have the chance to meet. Trying to distract herself from those morbid thoughts, she rummaged through the large bag she had brought with her.

"I didn't know whether my clothes would still fit you but, um," she stammered, feeling foolish, but Sharon seemed too worn out to feel offended. "Well, I brought this dress. It's quite comfy and loose-cut. As for shoes, I think our feet are about the same size so I brought you some of my flats, too."

She handed Sharon the beige dress with a brown maple leaf pattern and a large light caramel cashmere cardigan that she could wrap around herself. To her surprise, Sharon smiled weakly.

"Did you buy this in Canada?"

Brenda shrugged. "No, I just liked it, ya know? It's kind of cute..." She knew that Sharon didn't like cute, but she hadn't been able to come up with anything else at such short notice especially since Sharon was a little taller than her and almost six months pregnant.

"Thank you," Sharon said and Brenda turned away when she lifted the shirt over her head. When she turned back around, she had to smile beside herself. Sharon Raydor looked completely different wearing her clothes. Different and self-conscious, that was.

"I have a hairbrush somewhere..." she murmured and rummaged through her bag until she found it. When she looked back up, Sharon was staring at herself in the mirror without actually seeing her reflection.

"He lost so much blood," she said in a small voice. "What if he doesn't make it?"

Brenda wasn't very good at being reassuring, especially when she felt hopeless herself, but she knew she couldn't let Sharon down now so she placed her hand on her shoulder.

"He will make it, Sharon. He has a lot to live for. You and the the baby..."

"We had a fight before he was shot. He says I am making everything impersonal between us and that I care more about Charles than about him. I don't want him to die thinking that."

Brenda shook her head. "You know Andy! He can be such an idiot sometimes. Deep down he knows that it's not true."

Sharon was fighting to keep her composure, Brenda could tell from the way she squared her shoulders. "It's my fault. It's all happening because of me. I should just pay them their money."

"Sharon!" Brenda closed her hand around the other woman's wrist. "You need to stop. None of this is your fault. The only one who can be blamed is your dumbass of a husband!"

Sharon pressed her lips together and nodded but Brenda could tell that she was not convinced. Maybe her tendency to blame herself for everything was the reason she was so intent on following the rules, she mused. If you did everything by the book, you could be sure that any negative outcome was not your fault. She felt bad for hating Sharon so much back then as she understood only now that her personality had so many more layers than she'd ever cared to look for.

"Come on. We'll go back to the others so you can sit down," she said while unlocking the door and followed Sharon out, her stomach churning with concern for her. Surgery could take several hours and from the way Sharon was walking, she was about to collapse. Her steps were even less coordinated than they had been ten minutes ago; in fact she was staggering like a drunk woman. Fritz seemed to be thinking along the same lines because he grabbed Sharon's arm and helped her sit down again while Provenza handed her a cup of tea. Brenda felt like a spectator to a horrible tragedy playing out in front of her as she had never seen either of those two that lost. To her surprise the grumpy old lieutenant, who'd spend a good part of the past three years doing everything in his power to undermine Sharon Raydor, sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms. Even more surprisingly, she didn't object.

Somehow the Major Crimes unit had moved on from who they had been working under her but Brenda, surprisingly, wasn't jealous. She, too, had moved on but she still cared for them. She pulled Fritz aside.

"Fritzi, we've got to get to those horrible..." She waved her arms. "-horrible people! But before we do that, we need to get something to eat for Sharon and Provenza. I'm sure it will calm him and she's about to faint, anyway."

Fritz nodded obediently. "You want me to go and get something, don't you?"

She cocked her head and put her bottom lip forward in a successful attempt to be cute. "Would you?" She stretched the last vowel. "I don't feel so happy leaving them on their own."

"I can see why." He kissed the the top of her head. "Are you okay? Andy's your friend, too."

Brenda schooled her features. "He's not gonna die, Fritzi. He just can't."

"Right," he said. "I won't be long."

* * *

„_That went... well," Flynn says with just a hint of sarcasm. He closes the apartment door and crosses back to where Sharon is leaning against the couch, her ankles crossed and her fingers entwined with each other on top of one thigh. She straightens up when he reaches her, her earlier nervousness all but evaporated. She gently cups his cheek and stands on her toes to press a kiss to his lips._

"_You might not believe me when I say it, but it did. Considering." She smiles and reaches out to straighten his tie but then begins to undo it instead. Andy presses a kiss to her forehead and takes the opportunity to inhale the scent of her hair. Common sense dictated to not touch her in front of her son who's been eying Flynn with suspicion ever since he stepped through the door. The moment Sharon told her children about her pregnancy, however, James began to look positively murderous and Flynn half-expected to find him holding his steak knife to his throat soon. Sharon made a dinner he didn't expect her to be capable of producing with a delicious marinated lamb and vegetables. She's never struck him as much of a housewife and she doesn't cook very often, but when she does, he is always pleasantly surprised. It seems that the burned marshmallows she made under the supervision of Brenda Johnson's mother were a one-off. Sharon explains it away by the hugely embarrassing stories of Brenda's childhood she was distracted with by Billy Ray. _

"_I'm just glad we got the opportunity to tell them before they move into town for the summer. Like this, they have a week yet to come to terms with the idea before we begin to see each other more frequently." Sharon moves to the table to collect their plates and Andy grabs the pot that contained the vegetables to rinse it in the sink. _

"_James didn't look as if he was going to come to terms with it anytime soon," he points out. "I don't think I'll dare to go out after dark for a couple of months. He might lurk behind a corner to ambush me."_

_Sharon gives him a lopsided grin. "I've instilled too much of a fear of going against the rules in my kids for them to actually break the law," she says evenly and walks back to the table to collect their glasses. "But if you're too scared, I'll have to pick up Rusty at Dean's myself later tonight." She sets the glasses down on the counter and pretends to pout at Flynn. "It will be hard, though, as I am so, so tired." _

"_Don't play that card again," Flynn tells her, swiftly arranging the rest of the dishes inside the dishwasher and sliding it shut. "Rusty has already noticed that you don't get your lazy ass out of bed anymore to pick him up in the evenings."_

_She slides her arms around his waist and looks up at him playfully. "And what did you tell him?"_

_Flynn bends down and whispers against her lips, his almost touching hers. "I told him that you are a slave master and that now that you've tricked me into being your boyfriend, you are making me do your bidding." She begins to laugh but he stifles it with a kiss, thereby turning it into a pleased moan. She withdraws for a moment which causes him to give a dissatisfied growl._

"_We have an hour, yet, before you have to go and get Rusty," she tells him seductively. "I fully intend to make you do my bidding right now." She grabs his hand and pulls him towards the direction of her bedroom while he begins to unzip her dress, making her chuckle in the process. Her hungry kisses remind him of their first time on her couch when they ended up a satisfied heap of tangled limbs on the floor as they fell off the couch once they made an attempt to cuddle after sex. He remembers Sharon deliciously half-dressed and flushed on top of him who he lay spreadeagled from the fall, both unable to stop laughing even if their lives depended on it. This time she is fully naked, eyes closed and lips pressed together in concentration, her back arched and her hair falling down to cover the top of her breasts. After collapsing on top of him minutes later, she gives a very satisfied hum and begins to place a multitude of small kisses over his neck and right shoulder._

"_Sharon?"_

"_Hmm...?"_

"_How can you be so relaxed after a blood bath like that?" She raises her head and he becomes aware that, though fully naked, she is still wearing her glasses. Grinning in amusement, he takes them off her nose and sets them aside._

"_I am just so glad that we got this out of the way. Now we only have to tell Rusty as soon as he finishes his finals next week. I thought we might go to dinner after Amy's wedding reception and tell him then. What do you think? The familiar surroundings of his favorite hamburger restaurant might reassure him enough not to faint." Suddenly her expression changes with realization and she reaches out two fingers to turn Andy's chin towards where she lies down next to him and snuggles into his side. "What about your kids? Have you told them yet?"_

_Andy sits up slightly and pulls the covers over them. He is not about to have a conversation like that stark naked on his back. Sharon sits up, too, and rests her hand on his chest, drawing lazy circles. He catches her hand and squeezes it. "I haven't and I have to admit I am a little scared to. My daughter Christina just turned nineteen and she hates me enough as it is being very close with her mother. The twins will probably be a little better about it, but they're hard to get by at the moment, with their jobs and all."_

"_How old are John and Paul again?" Sharon asks softly. She is notoriously bad with names and he is a little surprised that she remembers his sons', considering how little he talks about his children. He is almost sure that he only mentioned their names to her once._

"_Twenty-six," he replies without having to think about it. "We shoot each other the occasional email, but this is not a topic I'd like to address in writing."_

"_Why don't we invite all of them over to have dinner some time? At your house, maybe?" she asks, popping herself up on her elbow. "I'm sure they won't be happy if they learn about it from the birth announcement I am sure my mother is going to send out to everyone in the Northern hemisphere."_

_"That's unfair. Australians should be informed, too." She smiles. "She's really excited, isn't she?" Andy grins despite the sensitive topic they just started to touch upon._

"_Absolutely. It might be a bit ironic, but given the age of her other grandchildren and the lurking possibility of having great-grandchildren soon, becoming a grandma once again makes her feel young." The famous Raydor instinct doesn't allow Sharon to stray off topic for long. "Why do you look so pained at the prospect of dinner with your kids?"_

"_Seriously? I am afraid Christina would rip you to shreds and I have absolutely no idea how Paul and John would react."_

_Sharon raises her eyebrows. "So you honestly think somebody would be able to rip me to shreds? Darth Raydor? Bitch, please."_

"_Bitch, please? Didn't you just recently ground Rusty for a week when he said that to you?"_

_She chuckles, looking a bit guilty. "Don't tell him, but I kind of like the sound of it." She sobers and presses another kiss to his throat. "Informing your kids is your decision, Andy, I won't try to talk you into anything."_

"_I know." He pulls her into him. "I just don't want you upset. You are stressed enough as it is and somehow I doubt that an angry teenager at your throat would make things any easier."_

"_Darling, that is sweet, but my son just told my I was 'ancient' and he also accused me of being a complete hypocrite for all the times I lectured him on the importance of contraception. And just last week, Rusty hated me for two entire days because I wouldn't let him attend that pool party that had 'alcohol abuse' written all over it. I think it's safe to say that angry teenagers are my specialty."_

"_I'll think about it, okay?" he murmurs, avoiding her gaze. While he really wants to keep all kinds of stress away from Sharon these days, his reasons for not having her meet his children any time soon are a little more complex than that. He can see that she is suspecting something like that and he is glad that she doesn't seem willing to implore any further. He settles in behind Sharon and wraps his arms around her to gently caress her stomach. He will be a good father this time, he tells himself, though not yet fully convinced. Somehow he has to have it in him now that alcohol isn't ruling his life anymore. Seeing Sharon's easy grace when it comes to her children, he feels a bit embarrassed to tell her about his own difficulties and given her husband's history of being both a drunk and a deadbeat-father, he is worried that having that conversation will give her second thoughts about being with Andy Flynn of all people._

* * *

Sharon had wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach, as if holding on to her baby would somehow make it possible to hold on to Flynn as well. She stiffened when a weak contraction washed over her. Braxton-Hicks, she tried to remind herself. Just practice contractions that were far from the real deal. The thought of going into labor and losing her baby terrified her even more now that she wasn't sure whether she would ever be able to look into Andy's eyes again. The baby shifted beneath her hands and she felt a tear run down her cheek. She had no idea how long she had been here for or whether Brenda and Fritz had arrived ten minutes or two hours ago. Time seemed like an abstract concept that she was unable to grasp in her current state. Occasionally, someone offered her food or tea but she always declined for fear that she would have to throw up if she tried to force anything down. Rusty's hand was on her left arm but she hardly felt its gentle touch. All she could think of was Andy's unconscious form and the pool of dark, glistening blood. Her gaze wandered towards Provenza who was staring at the opposite wall, his eyes empty as the seconds were ticking away on the clock.

Too weary to keep track, she had no idea how much time had passed when she felt her muscles contract yet again, more painfully this time. She gave a little whimper that she regretted immediately when she saw Rusty's shocked expression.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She rose from her chair and felt as if there were weights attached to her limbs. "I just need to walk around for a bit."

She slowly walked towards the other end of the room where a lonely teenage girl was curled into a chair, crying softly. She looked up at her when she passed and Sharon automatically smiled at her before she resumed her way. She felt weird and strangely vulnerable wearing Brenda's pretty dress. As if she was disguised as someone she was not. Smoothing down the fabric over her thighs, she found that the skirt twirled when she turned around and the discovery dismayed her. When she was almost past the sad girl again, she felt a wave of dizziness and stumbled towards the nearest chair.

"Are you alright, Ma'am?" the girl asked. Sharon looked up and found a teenager's typical attire: Sneakers, tight faded jeans, a low-cut top and a hoodie sweater. The girl looked tired and the hefty amount of black eyeshadow she'd applied was badly smudged from her relentless crying. Her dark brown hair was short and a little spiky which Sharon liked as it was a little individualistic.

"Thank you." She smiled at the formal address. "I'm okay. Just a little exhausted."

"I saw you when I arrived," the girl said. "You were all covered in blood."

Sharon cringed at the fact that someone had seen her in her sorry state.

"I must have looked like Carrie," she said ruefully and to her surprise the girl's face lit up.

"Do you like Stephen King? I've read all the books! Even the super-weird ones."

Sharon smiled. "I read a few and saw some of the movies."

"My dad likes those movies. But then he kind of likes all movies," the girl said and a sad expression appeared in her brown eyes.

"So does my-" Sharon stopped mid-sentence when she realized why the girl's features seemed so eerily familiar. "Is your father here at the hospital?"

"Yes, yes he is." The girl's breath hitched and tears welled up in her eyes. "He was shot." She stared at Sharon for a moment, then her eyes wandered towards Sharon's round belly. "All that blood... were you there?" She looked as if she was fighting an inner battle before she tentatively added. "You're not Sharon, are you?"

Sharon's heart sank. "I am."

"You're pregnant." The girl's voice sounded hollow. "Dad didn't tell me you were having a baby."

There was a moment of silence during which Sharon desperately tried to come up with something to say. "I'm sorry," she finally managed. "I thought he told you."

"Miss Flynn?" A doctor approached them and held his hand out for Christina to shake. It was a painful reminder to Sharon of what Andy had told her following her own stay at the hospital: Technically, she was not allowed to hear the news.

"Are you a relative?" The doctor turned towards her with a quizzical look. She could see his eyes flitting towards the personal information on the chart he was holding.

It said "divorced".

Before Sharon could answer, Christina did it for her. "She is my father's fiancee. You can tell her anything you tell me. How is he?"

"He is now out of surgery. An artery was hit so he's lost a lot of blood. For now he's stable."

The unspoken "but" that hung between them was the only thing that overshadowed their mutual relief.

**A/N**: ARGHHH... I just proofread the whole thing and then I hit a wrong key and all changes were lost. I went over it again but I guess I didn't find everything this time as I am about to fall asleep on top of my computer keyboard. So sorry for all errors but after all those great reviews I wanted to update really quickly!


	21. Chapter 21

**21**

_It's been a long day and Andy's tired, rubbing his eyes as he scans another one of the documents from the ten boxes that have been brought over. They split them up between them but there are still too many. Sometimes he hates police work. Mostly when it is as tedious and tiring as going through credit card reports to find clues as to a suspect's whereabouts. And of course these aren't their suspect's own credit card statements because that would be far too easy. Sharon approaches his desk looking relaxed as being meticulous comes to her a lot easier than it does to him. He smiles at her and accepts the cup of coffee she is holding out to him while she sticks to her tea. He can smell the honey in it from where he is sitting._

"_Found anything?" he asks, stifling a yawn._

"_No." Sharon lowers herself into Provenza's empty chair and blows the steam off her mug. Her free hand is resting on her stomach._

"_Sick again?" he asks her and she nods, grimacing. "I wish I hadn't lost my lunch over the strangled guy."_

"_The smell was horrible." Andy tries to comfort her. For a moment they sit in that comfortable silence that comes with being the only ones left in the office, then Sharon takes a casual look around and rolls her chair over towards Andy's so she can rest her head against his shoulder._

"_All the cream in the break room seems to have vanished. Do you have anything to do with that, by any chance?"_

_Andy grins. "Guilty. I saw you gagging over it and decided that you didn't need anything else to make you nauseous."_

"_Thank you." _

_He is a little surprised that she doesn't admonish him over meddling with the office's food supplies on her behalf but then he saw her cover her mouth and run when Provenza used whip cream on his coffee. She sneaks her hand into his and leans in to kiss him softly in the corner of his mouth. He likes these little displays of affection when she is sure no one is looking. When the team is around she can be downright standoffish in her attempts to not let anyone see how close she is with Andy._

"_Do you want to go home for the day?" he asks. "It's almost nine and it would be a shame to waste the opportunity of having your condo to ourselves. We could pick up some dinner on the way home."_

_She hesitates and her eyes linger on the stacks of files on Andy's desk but then she nods. "Okay, but I don't think I will be fun company tonight. Thinking about food makes me nauseous and I am exhausted."_

_He reaches out his hand for her cup._

"_Rest for a moment, honey. I'll rinse these and then we can go."_

_When he returns, Sharon is staring at the autographed baseball on Provenza's desk. She looks deeply immersed in her thoughts while her hand is caressing her stomach. He can see she's connecting with their baby, not trying to keep the nausea at bay this time. He is beginning to spot all those subtle differences in her behavior and it makes him feel like he is the only one who is in on her many secrets. Approaching her, he kisses her cheek, placing his hand on top of hers. He hates it when she's going to crime scenes now, always worried that a suspect will jump out from behind a corner and hurt her and the baby. _

"_Provenza took me aside today and gave me a lecture on how I should stop hovering over your shoulder all the time," he tells Sharon with an amused tone creeping into his voice. "He says if I got any more protective, I might as well propose to you in front of everyone."_

"_Yes, you should stop that," she says absent-mindedly which surprises him. He follows her gaze towards the baseball and watches her reach out, stopping just before her fingertips touch Provenza's greatest treasure. "How will Provenza hold up, really?" she asks without looking at Andy._

"_Excuse me?" he asks, not understanding what she means. She looks up and gets to her feet, looking distant. _

"_He had a hard time accepting our relationship. How will he react to the fact that we're having a baby?"_

_He now realizes what she means. "I am not sure. He'll probably hate it at first but then he's always come around." He shrugs. "He doesn't have a choice, really."_

_Sharon looks up at him. "I don't want to come between the two of you, Andy."_

_He is touched by her concern and wants to wrap his arms around her. He knows, however, that something like that would not be subtle enough for the workplace and she'd probably resist although no one else is there._

"_Nothing can come between Provenza and me." He wants to call her sweetheart but he knows that she finds it a little patronizing, so he doesn't. "I couldn't get rid of the old bugger if I wanted to. And besides," he grins encouragingly. "What are you going to do? Leave me so I can be with Provenza?"_

_She smiles and he can tell that she's relieved besides herself. "We should somehow let him know that we want him to be a part of our family," she muses._

_Andy raises his brows. He always thought that the dislike between Provenza and Sharon was mutual. Now he realizes that she has a soft spot for his best friend._

"_Should I be jealous?" he asks, only half-joking._

_Sharon seems to find the idea insanely comical because she chuckles. "Not really." She takes his hand and places it back on her stomach. "Can you take us home now?"_

_With the urge to kiss her, he is suddenly very eager to get her out of the LAPD building and is quick to grab his jacket and kill the lights. The walk towards the elevator and as they wait, he feels her lean into him slightly, reaching for his hand. She smells good, he thinks. He'll never get enough of her scent and he inhales it deeply. The elevator doors open to darkness that quickly envelopes him, her scent fading from his nostrils to be replaced with antiseptics that make his eyes burn._

* * *

One minute ago she had been desperate to see Andy, but now Sharon suddenly dreaded going in. She wasn't prepared to see him pale and unconscious, she realized now; she knew that she' would immediately begin to wonder whether he would make it or not. Sharon gasped when in the midst of her turmoil of emotions, her uterus contracted painfully. She leaned against the wall for support and pressed her palm against the mound of her stomach that was half concealed by the blue scrubs that were mandatory attire in the ICU. She was surprised when Christina handed her a water bottle.

"You're having contractions, Sharon, aren't you?"

Her heart sank at the discovery that her pain was that obvious but she couldn't deny it. Christina unscrewed the cap for her and urged her to take a drink with a wave of her hand that reminded her strangely of Andy. She looked young for her age but the more time Sharon spent with her, the more similarities she discovered between her and her father. She took a sip of water, only noticing now how thirsty she was.

"Strong Braxton-Hicks are often caused by dehydration and I haven't seen you drink anything since you got here," Christina explained. "You have to be careful so they don't develop into the real deal."

Sharon was astonished and it had to show on her face because the girl smiled nervously. "I've been doing an internship at Cedar's all year. Spent most of my time in the maternity ward and with the kids in pediatrics, so I picked up a thing or two."

"I think you're right," Sharon said. "Thank you for the advice."

They shared a nervous smile that spoke of the fact that they both were still slightly uncomfortable in the other's presence despite the fact that they had taken an unexpected mutual liking to each other the instant they'd met. Neither of them could explain where it was coming from, but both felt drawn towards each other, perhaps as a result of their shared pain and concern for Andy.

"So do you want to be a doctor?" Sharon asked. A year-long internship seemed lengthy. Especially at nineteen, when everyone else was going off to college.

Christina shrugged.

"I am not sure yet. I am going to try something else and then attend UCLA next year. Maybe I'll travel. Europe or something. Dad's got relatives in Italy."

"I know some people in Paris and London if you need a place to crash there," Sharon told her. "My kids toured Europe, too, when they were your age. They loved it."

Christina's eyes lit up. "That sounds great. I will be on a budget, so I guess that would be very helpful." Sharon studied her features. The delicate little nose seemed to come from her mother's side of the family but her lips and especially her eyes looked familiar. Her physique had something fragile and delicate but her gaze was unwavering and there was strength in those thin arms, Sharon could tell. She looked at the spiky hair that looked as if Christina had cut it herself, some strands longer than others without a recognizable pattern. The dark brown color seemed natural, though. Her ears were pierced multiple times, but she wasn't wearing any earrings right now.

"Do you know whether you're going to have a boy or a girl?" Christina asked abruptly. Sharon couldn't tell how exactly she felt about the news, but she seemed eager to deal with it in some way, in which hers differed considerably from James' and Rusty's early reactions. There was something broken about her that she made up for with strength and poise.

"It's a girl."

"Is she healthy? I mean, you and dad... you're not exactly twenty anymore."

"Yes, she is fine. I had every test run that there is and she seems perfectly healthy. I won't stop worrying before I've counted all of her fingers and toes, though."

Christina smiled. "Don't worry. If all the prenatal tests come back negative, there is a pretty good chance that she's perfectly alright."

Sharon returned her smile without even thinking about it. "You know, I think you should be a doctor. You have something very reassuring about you."

Surprisingly, a dark shadow crossed Christina's face, but before Sharon could say something, the door was opened and a nurse beckoned them inside. The air held the overwhelming smell of antiseptics that seemed to crawl into her respiratory passages to leave them sore and dry. Her feet in Brenda's simple ballerinas caused a creaking noise on the spotless linoleum and the unforgiving light made Christina's face look almost greenish. She wasn't sure who'd reached out first but their hands were suddenly in each other.

Andy was behind another door, his bed surrounded by machines. Sharon had seen her father die of a heart attack and the smells and sights threatened to put her right back into the Utah hospital where she'd had to say goodbye to him. The memory alone brought tears to her eyes which burned only more when Christina squeezed her hand in silent support. Andy's eyes were closed and his breathing was aided by a machine. The constant beeping of the heart monitor was reassuring but unsettling at the same time as it provided the acoustic backdrop to her painful memories. They split up and approached the bed from either side. Andy's right leg was wrapped in gauze where they'd been operating on the thigh where the bullet had hit. He looked just as pale and lifeless as Sharon had imagined him to and it broke her heart to see him helpless like this.

Moments like this one always put things in perspective. A future planned together could be water under the bridge in a heartbeat. If that monitor showed a flat line, everything they'd accomplished together would just evaporate into nothingness. She looked over at Christina whose face was an expressionless mask except for her eyes that showed all the emotions Sharon was having. She couldn't let Charles' enemies ruin her life, Sharon thought with renewed vigor. She could not allow them to threaten the people she loved and the life she had built after years of carefully hiding behind her protective walls. Her happiness was at stake here and she would not let them take it away from her. She leaned in and kissed Andy's forehead then took his hand between hers and pressed her lips to his knuckles.

* * *

_She's his little girl again without the earrings and the black eyes-shadow and even the morose look in her eyes cannot hide the fact that she's scared. Andy sits down on her bed and looks at her thin body clad in oversized beige pajamas. The black nail polish on her toes is chipped and for some reason it breaks his heart to see it. It reminds him of the fact that things can break, that souls can be damaged and that his daughter is burdened with a heritage that makes her even more vulnerable than many others._

"_What are you doing here?" she asks him darkly. "I told you not to come."_

_She turns away from him and pretends to look at the sky through the window. Being inside with her, he finds it difficult to remember that the streets are baking in the July heat outside._

"_I wanted to see you," he says but his voice doesn't sound calm or reassuring at all. He's scared that all of this is his fault, that she never wants to see him again. "How are you feeling?"_

_She huffs. "Just peachy of course. I love being trapped with all these idiots here. Group therapy is so much fun." The sarcastic tone in her voice makes Andy cringe as it reminds him of her mother. The silence that hangs over them is laden with guilt and unspoken accusations so he is eager to break it somehow._

"_I have a new boss," he says. "Captain Raydor just transferred. She's such a pain in the ass sometimes." _

_When she was little, Tina used to love his war stories from work but now she just purses her lips and doesn't answer. That girl sitting opposite him on the metal bed seems distant, like a stranger. He remembers the small child that could always be bribed with chocolate and hugs and wonders when exactly she vanished. The first few years of her life are hazy in his mind as he was always drunk but at five she was bright and smart and funny. His heart breaks at the sight of her all sullen and broken._

"_Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" he asks desperately. "Anything?"_

_She looks up at stares into his eyes. "Yeah. Fuck off and never come back."_

_It hurts although they have warned him that she might be like this. Withdrawal isn't fun, he knows better than most. _

"_Sweetheart-" he begins but she cringes as if he had just insulted her._

"_Don't call me that to cover up the fact that you're a crappy father! Just leave me alone!" _

_She lies down on the bed and curls into a tiny ball of anger and insecurity. "Just go. Please." Her voice is now small and laden with tears. Andy feels shattered inside but he can't enforce his presence on her if she doesn't want to see him._

"_Please call me if you change your mind," he almost begs his daughter. He takes her favorite chocolates from his pocket and places the box on her nightstand, then leaves._

* * *

"You sure you're up to this? You've been sitting with Andy all night. You and little Miss Flynn need some sleep." Provenza looked tired in his crumpled clothes, holding on to a cellophane cup of coffee for dear life.

"Little Miss Flynn, who might also be little Miss Raydor by the way, is far from tired right now," Sharon said stubbornly. "And I am fine. I was dehydrated which was where the contractions were coming from, but now I'm okay. I haven't had any for hours."

Provenza blinked against the beams of the mid-morning sun and took another sip of his coffee. "Andy would kill me if I let you run off on your own," he growled.

"Oh, come on, Lieutenant. She's not on her own!" Brenda Leigh Johnson threw her hands in the air in exasperation. Sharon felt a little like a teenage girl begging her father to allow her to attend a party and it amused her. Andy was still stable and though not awake yet, his prognosis was good after making it through the night. She knew he was safe with Christina and Provenza by his side and she'd instructed both of them to call her immediately if anything changed.

"Well, do whatever you want," Provenza grumbled. After learning that Andy would be okay, he seemed to have reverted to being his old self which was strangely reassuring given the circumstances. He looked scandalized when Sharon leaned in and placed a hasty kiss on his cheek before she turned around to leave.

"You ready?" Brenda asked when they arrived at the station some twenty minutes later.

"More ready than I've ever been," Sharon replied, fully aware of the fact that she sounded grim. Although Brenda was the one who didn't work for the LAPD anymore, she could tell that her team's surprised faced were owed to her. Not her presence, so much, but her attire as she was still wearing the maple leaf dress. She did have a spare suit in her office, but no part of it actually fit anymore so she would have to walk into the interview room looking like a character from a Disney movie.

"Captain!" Sykes rushed towards her, closely followed by Sanchez and Tao. "How's Andy?"

"He will be fine," Sharon answered, still relieved whenever she said it out loud. "He was shot in the thigh and lost a lot of blood, but we got him to the hospital in time. He's resting now with Provenza and his daughter watching over him." She schooled her features as a gentle reminder that her presence was about work.

"What did you find out this morning?"

Tao stepped forward in the calm and efficient manner of his. "We have someone in interview room two. His name is Sergej Nowak. He was convicted for a triple homicide last year in San Diego. He didn't have personal motive so it is believed to be a mob hit. The victims were a Mr William Pearson, his wife and his teenage daughter. Mr Pearson was in debt to an investment company in New York." He raised his brows meaningfully. "That's when we decided he was worth a look."

"Good work," Sharon said, nodding her gratitude at her detectives. "I'll go in."

She knew that involving Brenda again was technically against the rules, but then she didn't care much right at the moment. She needed names and she needed them now to end all the madness. If Brenda's skills got her that information, she was willing to deal with the fallout later. The other woman seemed to get it and looked down at herself.

"I have a spare suit," Sharon explained, gesturing towards her office.

Ten minutes later, what was left of the Major Crimes squad assembled in the media room with Buzz to watch the interview. Sanchez couldn't stop grinning at the sight of Sharon Raydor in a cute dress while Brenda Leigh Johnson was wearing one of Sharon's conservative black suits. If anyone had told him two years ago that they would one day end up swapping clothes for an interview, he'd have laughed out loud. Nowak's face looked a little gaunt and one couldn't be sure whether the prominence of his cheekbones was due to his time in jail or his natural physiognomy. His eyes were light blue but not as cold as Karkaroff's while his lean but muscular body and shaved head gave him an air of calm powerfulness.

He regarded the two women with mild interest when they entered. "I am Captain Sharon Raydor, this is Mary Flynn," Brenda told him, the lie effortlessly rolling from her lips. Sanchez looked at Tao who looked slightly amused himself.

"Why are they doing that?" Sykes asked, obvious in her ignorance but eager to learn as usual.

"I don't know," Sanchez admitted. "but I'm sure there's a reason."

"Well thanks..." Buzz murmured sarcastically, his eyes trained on the screen where Sharon gave a sweet smile and Brenda narrowed her eyes.

"Mr Nowak, you're here because you killed a family of three last year." Brenda's gaze didn't waver or stray while Sharon was inspecting the slim file they had been given.

"And I remember being convicted for that, so I am afraid the rule of double jeopardy applies." He sounded educated while there was still a hard edge to his words that was the last hint left of a Slavic accent.

"You never disclosed your motives for killing them." Brenda leaned back in her chair, looking unusually tomboyish with the rolled-up sleeves of Sharon's suit jacket and her hair pinned back in an unruly bun.

"And I am not planning to now." Nowak said softly.

"It says here that you had a hard time settling into the penitentiary," Sharon said in a quiet voice. "Is that true?"

Nowak looked at her for the first time, his forehead creasing. He was probably wondering what she was doing here, especially as Brenda had introduced her without adding a rank. Sharon caught his questioning gaze and smiled politely.

"I'm sorry. Captain Raydor didn't introduce me properly. I'm a psychologist."

Brenda rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Their presence is now mandatory when we talk to prison inmates." She adopted a saccharine smile. "But I do always follow the rules."

Sanchez could tell that the exasperated look Sharon gave Brenda was genuine and he hid his chuckle behind his hand. They seemed to have become friends but there were still traces left of their past adversarial relationship.

"I find the company inside a little less than riveting," Nowak told Sharon without sparing Brenda as much as a glance. Sharon smiled at him again, making Sanchez wonder whether he'd ever seen her smile that much at work before. She was a little more relaxed when she met her squad outside work but at the office she usually kept a straight face and her emotions to herself.

"I see that." Sharon flipped through the file. "An educated man like yourself."

"Would you mind keeping the chit-chat to a minimum?" Brenda's eyes were shooting daggers at Sharon much like they had back when she'd been auditing Major Crimes. Sharon raised one hand in defeat and made a note on the little notepad that was also a strangely misplaced reminder of her time back in FID. Nowak's eyes lingered on Sharon for another moment before he turned back to Brenda.

"I would like to know who you were working for, Mr Nowak," Brenda said almost harshly, her gaze intense. "We have reason to believe that someone else like yourself is roaming the streets right now, threatening another debtor and his family."

"I do not know what you are talking about." Nowak turned his palms upward.

"Oh, screw this," Brenda spat. "We both know that you were working for Gingham Investments in New York. Elusive little company, really. No listed founders, at least none that actually exist, and ties to the Polish mob." She clicked her tongue. "You were a hired gun, Mr Nowak, and I would like to know who paid you for offing the man who couldn't pay back his debt."

"Me? A hit man?" Nowak laughed. "That's beyond absurd."

A small chuckle from Sharon made Brenda's head snap towards her. "Mrs Flynn would you please keep your merriment to yourself?" she hissed at her.

"Sorry," Sharon murmured, establishing eye-contact with Nowak at the same time.

Brenda spent the next fifteen minutes playing bad cop by yelling at Nowak, slamming a notepad and pen down on to the table in front of him and effectively being obnoxious and occasionally insulting Sharon who looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"Good cop, bad cop," Sykes said in wonder.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Buzz said, making the woman blush slightly.

On the screen, Sharon was trying to interrupt Brenda's rant by saying something but it took her a while to find a quiet moment to chime in.

"Captain, shouldn't we offer him the deal?" she asked, causing Brenda to explode with rage.

"Mrs Flynn. A word. Outside!"

She dragged her outside and they could hear her loud, angry voice filtering through the door, well-picked up by the microphones in the interview room and therefore heard by Nowak, too. "Why can't you people just shut up and let us do our jobs? I almost had him there and you disclose information about the deal! Are you insane?"

A moment later Sharon entered the room on her own. "Captain Raydor will be back in a minute," she said, avoiding Nowak's eyes with what looked like shame. "Maybe I could ask you a few questions in the meantime?"

"Yes."

Answering Sharon's questions calmly, he told her that he'd grown up in Warsaw and had then moved to the USA in his early twenties where he'd gone to college and had received his degree before he had started working for an investment firm. Sharon listened patiently and asked some follow-up questions that spoke of genuine interest. Brenda entered the media room and gave the others a triumphant grin.

"How was I?" she asked.

"You have the obnoxious officer down to an art, Chief," Tao said appreciatively. "I don't know what's more unsettling. Seeing you like that or seeing Captain Raydor like this." He gestured towards the monitor.

"We had to use the cute dress somehow," Brenda murmured, already concentrating on the conversation going on.

"You mentioned something about a deal," Nowak finally said, causing Sharon to avoid his eyes uneasily.

"I'm not supposed to-"

"It's okay, Mary. May I call you that?"

"Mary? How did you come up with that?" Sykes asked curiously.

"It's her middle name." Brenda waved her comment off to be able to hear everything that was going on inside the interview room.

"Do you also want to know where Flynn as a last name comes from?" Sanchez teased and Sykes stuck her tongue out at him.

"Well," Sharon made quite a good show of appearing shy. "We could have you transferred to another facility, you know. One that provides for more privacy and might cater a bit better to your need of intellectual stimulation. I would have to evaluate you, though, but from what I've heard so far, you'd absolutely qualify for that program."

"Why does someone like that become a hit man for the Polish mob?" Tao mused. "He seems like a pretty nice guy actually."

"He killed three people in cold blood," Buzz reminded him.

"And all I have to do is give you the names?" Nowak asked. "How can I be sure that I won't be assassinated for giving them away?"

Sharon smiled. "Oh, that. We can have you transferred to the new facility under a false name. We are actually legally obligated to do so in order to make sure you're not going to be released into a hostile environment. It is called the Johnson rule."

Brenda growled but kept otherwise silent as she, along with everyone else, knew that this was Sharon's comeback for the rule following comment.

Nowak looked pensive now then pulled the notepad and pen near and began to jot down names. He looked up again and smiled at Sharon.

"Nice dress, by the way."

* * *

The light burned his eyes and his lids were heavy, both of which were reason enough to keep them shut and go back to sleep, but there was an overwhelming desire to return to a conscious state and so he fought to sharpen his vision. He was in a regular hospital room, sunlight streaming in through one of the windows. Someone was holding his hand and when he turned his heavy head with some difficulty, he found his daughter Tina sitting there.

"Hey dad," she said, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "You're awake!"

He blinked and groaned. "I feel like I was hit by a train."

"You were shot," she replied, her voice quivering. "Someone was trying to harm Sharon and you tried to defend her."

The memories returned in one swift wave and his whole body tensed. "Is Sharon okay? Where is she?"

He remembered the bullet hitting him and then quick, sudden nothingness, but he had no idea whether the assailant had fled or proceeded upstairs.

"She's okay. She was here all night watching over you," Tina quickly told him. "Now she's at the station interviewing someone to find out who the people behind this are."

Thinking clearly was hard as the thoughts were sloshing around his brain like a sluggish mass. There was something he would have to deal with but he could not remember what it was for the life of him.

"You didn't tell me that's she's having a baby. And she's so far along already."

He closed his eyes with a pang of guilt. That was it.

"I'm sorry," he rasped. "I didn't know how to tell you after what happened last year. You didn't want to see me and I thought putting it in writing wasn't the best possible way."

Tina gave a sad smile, a small tear rolling down her cheek. "I was angry, dad. I was in denial about the drugs. I hated everyone, not just you. And afterward I felt so guilty for accusing you of all those nasty things."

"It was my fault, Tina. I should have been there for you more."

Her shoulders sagged as if the burden she was carrying suddenly manifested itself in a heavy weight resting on top of them. "Dad, it doesn't matter. You were an addict and I became one, too. It might be hereditary or the way I grew up but, like you, I am clean now." She avoided his eyes now. "The thought of you actually helped me get through it. I thought if you could stay sober after years of drinking, I could stop taking ecstasy after a year of doing so. And I did."

He squeezed her hand back to the best of his ability. "I'm proud of you, Tina and I really, really missed you."

A smile broke through her sad expression. "I know. I never wrote back but I got all your cards and emails."

He was exhausted and also relieved, so he closed his eyes for another moment before he opened them again.

"She's nice, your Sharon," Tina said. "A little different than I imagined her to be after what you wrote about her. Didn't seem like the type to wear dresses with maple leaf patterns." Andy was too tired to openly question it but the absurdity of Sharon in such attire did register with him. "And she's not half your age which is always a plus, too."

He grimaced at the quip but she laughed. "You need to get well soon, dad, or the white-haired guy outside will suffer a heart-attack."

As if on cue, the door opened and Provenza stuck his head in. His eyes brightened at the sight of Andy being awake, but he adopted a slightly sullen expression despite it. "Well, sleeping beauty!" he droned. "Do you finally grace us with your waking presence?" He walked in and sat on the chair Sharon had vacated a few hours prior.

"Your sweetheart and our boss just called. They identified the people behind the investment scandal this morning. FBI's got them in custody and one of them already confessed."

Andy felt awash with relief and turned towards his daughter just to see a quizzical, almost scandalized expression on her face.

"Sharon is that horrible new boss you were talking about?!"

* * *

Victor Karkaroff swore and kicked over the chair in his cell. Their cover was blown and the protection that had kept him silent so far, was no longer existent. He didn't have a choice now but set things into motion. Slowly, he walked towards the door and banged his fist against it.

"I want to see my lawyer!"


	22. Chapter 22

**22**

"I thought you were taking the day off."

Sharon turned around to face Rusty whose hands were wrapped around one of her big, brown coffee mugs from which steam was lazily curling towards the ceiling. She smiled at the sight of him, his hair all ruffled and his eyes small and still heavy with sleep. She grabbed her handbag and slung it over her shoulder, glad to be in a black suit once again. Incorrigible as she was, she was also wearing heels, albeit relatively reasonable ones.

"When do I ever?" she replied airily, pushing her hair behind her shoulder. A good night's sleep had done her good and so had her prolonged visit to Andy's hospital room the night before. She had just climbed into his bed and snuggled into his good side, holding on to his chest for dear life until Provenza had threatened to forcefully remove her from the premises so she could go home and get some sleep. The hot shower she'd taken to get rid of the last remainders of Andy's blood on her had relaxed her so much that she'd just staggered into bed wrapped in her towel and too tired to change into pajamas or even turn off the light. She had then awoken to the sound of her ringing cell phone and her baby's happy kicks the next morning.

Rusty cocked his head with a suspicious glint in his eyes. "What are you up to, Sharon?"

The question hung between them for a moment and she knew what was going through his head. With two steps she closed the distance between them and touched his shoulder lightly.

"Don't worry, Rusty. I might not be able to stay home today, but I won't allow anything to keep me from going to court with you tomorrow for your testimony. Understood?"

She could tell from the somewhat relieved look on his face that he was grateful for her reassurance and she leaned in to drop a quick kiss on his forehead. With a sheepish expression she indicated her own.

"You, um, have lipstick on your head."

"Now that's just great," Rusty replied sarcastically. She gave a short wave and walked out.

Sharon was pondering whether it was wise to keep things from Rusty once again during the whole drive to the office. When she climbed out out her car and pushed the elevator button, however, she decided that there was no better way to do this. She hadn't forgotten that, even though the danger looming over them was now banned, she still owed Rusty an answer to what had happened to his mother. Truth be told, she would have preferred to have a quiet breakfast and then spend the rest of the day with Andy at the hospital, but he had assured her that he understood and that what lay ahead of her was more important. Nevertheless, she hated leaving him on his own for two consecutive days with Rusty's testimony in the Stroh trial due the next day. Her baby kicked hard and she smiled to herself, thinking of the surprise she'd tucked into the laptop case that Rusty had stuffed with DVDs for Andy to watch at the hospital.

She stepped out of the elevator and followed the corridor down into the Murder Room where the rest of the team was already assembled. Careful not to play favorites too much with Flynn and Provenza, she had chosen Sanchez to accompany her today and he rose from his chair the instant she walked in. He had been inconsolable when she'd told him that she would never be caught wearing Brenda's dress again and it had been pretty obvious that he found it too damn funny to ever forget about it. And there had been thinking that Flynn and Provenza were the only ones with a questionable sense of humor.

"Hey Captain!" Sykes and Tao beamed at her before they went back to their individual tasks. Not having caught a new case this week, they were busy filling out paperwork and the smell of coffee and doughnuts proved that it really was an office day.

"How's Andy?" Buzz asked in passing. He was doing an inventory of his tech supplies and was carrying an armful of cables that didn't look particularly confidence-inspiring. She gave them a quick update on his vastly improved condition and assured them that she was fine as well before she grabbed Sanchez and made for the parking garage again.

Twenty minutes later they flashed their badges upon entering the gloomy-looking building and walked down a long corridor towards the visitor room. Sharon's intense longing to get this all done and over with made her quicken her step despite the fact that the heels were already starting to become uncomfortable again and she noticed that Sanchez had trouble keeping up. She flashed him a little smile over her shoulder when he came to stand next to her in front of the door and placed her hand on his arm while the guard unlocked it. She was about to stick to her resolutions and tell him that she was grateful for his presence when the heavy door opened with a barely audible groan and they were beckoned to step into the visitor room. A couple of bored-looking women looked up at them from the chairs that were scattered along one wall and a toddler began its shaky walk towards Julio's leg until his mother caught him by his little arm. Sharon's heels clicked ominously on the worn linoleum and the walls were a shade of green that inspired depression. She felt instantly claustrophobic with the low ceiling, barred windows and the broken vending machine, faced with tired and expressionless faces all around. She tried to smile at the toddler, but her facial muscles wouldn't move, so she walked past him towards the far end of the room where another door admitted them to a small interrogation room that was reserved to police visits.

She had been nervous before, but the sight of Vladimir Karkaroff brought back a bunch of unwelcome memories that she had believed to have overcome. She remembered the feeling of the brick wall against her back, her frantic struggle for the gun and, most of all, the overwhelming fear for the little life within her. She brought one hand to her belly but dropped it immediately. She was here as a police officer, not as the mother of the child he had been willing to kill along with her. Sanchez sought her eyes and she felt instantly reassured when she felt his shoulder brush hers as they sat down at the narrow table. Karkaroff didn't look so threatening anymore in his orange inmate's overall and with the pale skin tone that was caused inevitably by a lack of sun and air. His ankles and wrists were cuffed as per her request and a reassuringly bulky prison guard was standing in one corner, ready to pull him off her should he try and attack anyway. Karkaroff, however, didn't look violent or angry at all. He seemed resigned to his fate and hadn't even requested the presence of a lawyer. He looked at Sharon in a different, almost polite way.

Before either of them could open the conversation, Karkaroff spread his hands out on the table.

"Captain Raydor, thank you for coming."

Even his voice sounded different. Less cold. Almost amicable even.

"I am ready to tell you about the kidnapping of your foster son," he relayed, his voice heavy with the Polish accent. Although she was trying hard to remain professional, Sharon gritted her teeth. It wasn't easy to seem cold and detached when one was so invested in a case. Maybe she should have sent someone else instead of doing this herself, she thought, but then she wanted to be able to tell Rusty about every detail first hand. She was also painfully aware of the fact that the rules would have required her to involve Commander Stevens, which was a problem she was willing to put off for now.

"Go ahead," she said.

* * *

"I can't wait to go home to you," Andy murmured into Sharon's hair while his hand traced the fetal movements inside her belly. She sighed comfortably and turned her head to be able to look at him again.

"Speaking of which, did you pay any attention to the movies and laptop Rusty brought for you?"

He yawned. "No, I was too busy sleeping and fending off Provenza's attempts to talk to me about the nurse and what he calls her 'classic calves'. He's annoying that way."

Sharon chuckled. "Then you missed something else." She reached for the laptop case on the nightstand and pulled out a blue folder that she handed to him. Andy made quite a show of sitting up and opened it with curiosity written all over his face. She watched him flip through the pages and saw realization dawning in his eyes when he discovered the pictures and figures.

"Exposés for houses!" he finally stated, obviously too taken-aback to adopt one of his cocky grins yet.

"You're a master of deduction. I am so glad to have a criminological mastermind like yourself on my team, Lieutenant." She pointed at the second page. "I didn't have time to go through them, but Rusty liked this one. It's in a good neighborhood and it comes with a pool. Enough bedrooms, too."

She could tell that he wasn't really listening to the specifics of it and so she turned her head to meet his curious stare.

"What?"

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

She smiled. "There was no need for that, Andy. I just needed things to be put in perspective." The confused look in his eyes made her brush his hand that was still holding the folder with her fingertips before she continued. "I was scared to take that step because I was worried that something might happen to the baby. I still am, but then meeting Christina made he realize that we have a big family already and I won't be alone again if-" She shook her head slightly and he leaned in to kiss her softly.

"I understand," he said. "I was an idiot for putting so much pressure on you. It was just- the way your husband was acting all protective about you and then you protecting him in turn, I wasn't so sure-"

She cut him off. "I get it, but you have no reason to worry. Yes, I did feel the need to protect him, but I still disapprove of most of what he does and I have no desire to come into any more contact with him in the future than I have during the past twenty years. And now," she pointedly raised her eyebrows. "I want to buy you a house."

He cringed. "You know, it's kind of hard on my male ego to be spoiled by a rich woman. Provenza will never let me hear the end of it."

"Go ahead and pay for it then, honey," she teased him. "but it would be kind of pointless to bother with a mortgage when I have enough money lying around."

"Go ahead, rub it in," he growled but then something else caught his attention and he held up the folder again. "What about this one? It's close to the condo and it isn't one of those characterless new buildings but a completely renovated house from the twenties."

She bent over his shoulder. "I like it. Let's have a look at it next week. We might even get a discount because I am pregnant and you're an invalid."

She chuckled when he shot her a glare and squeezed his hand. He pulled her into his chest again to be able to hold her close.

"Oh, those lovebirds."

Both looked up at Barbara's sarcastic tone that was betrayed by her wide smile as she stuck her head through the door.

"Can I come in? Are you decent or are you having awkward hospital sex?" she asked.

Sharon rolled her eyes and sat up, her hand still on Andy's chest.

"Come on in," she called.

Barbara walked in, looking like her usual self in a suit and a flurry of wild curls. Approaching the bed, she flung her briefcase down and narrowly missed Andy's injured leg, making him wince.

"How's the patient?" she asked him. "Is the leg still attached?"

Barbara had declared on more than one occasion that she'd rather lose a good friend than pass on a good joke and she wasn't holding back today. Andy grinned at her light mood and nodded while Barbara leaned over to her best friend and hugged her briefly.

"I got your message when I flew in from Toronto this morning. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you."

"It's okay," Sharon assured her. "Brenda helped me out."

Barbara raised her eyebrows but didn't comment further and pulled a folder from her briefcase that she then handed to Sharon. She gave her a wide smile as she accepted it, aware of the fact that Barbara had a jealous streak when it came to other friends, especially the elusive Brenda Leigh Johnson that Sharon had once disliked so prominently. Sharon found her distrust of the other woman almost cute but made it a point not to talk to her about it.

"Early birthday present," Barbara now beamed.

"My birthday is in December," Sharon pointed out and Barbara waved the comment away.

"The Cockroach never remembered when your birthday was in the first place."

Sharon frowned and opened the folder to find a stack of paperwork that she recognized as what it was only after a few moments of staring at it. "He retracted his claim?"

"You got it, honey. You are as good as divorced." Barbara clapped her hands together. "I would have preferred to kick his ass in court but like this it's a little less stressful, I've got to admit."

Sharon was still going over the papers as if she was trying to find fault in them and Andy reached out to touch her elbow.

"I'm sure Barbara already checked them for booby traps, Sharon."

"Hell yeah, I did. It's all waterproof. Everything else is a formality. It's as good as over."

Sharon took a deep breath and her shoulders moved as if an invisible weight had been lifted off them. She reached out and squeezed Barbara's hand, then kissed Andy. When she straightened up, a slight flush had crept into her cheeks and she was smiling more openly than she'd done in a long time.

"He finally came to his senses."

Barbara shrugged. "Maybe there is a trace of humanity left in him, after all." Her face lit up but then she groaned. "Dammit. No proper celebration with an alcoholic and a pregnant girl. Where's Provenza when you need him?"

* * *

Although it wasn't the first day of trial, the court room was packed with reporters and family members of Stroh's victims and there were more security guards present than usual to keep the crowd under control. Despite the elaborate air conditioning units and the cool September day outside the stained glass windows, the air inside the court room was stuffy and the smell of polished wood hung heavily below the ceiling. Sharon's left hand was resting on Rusty's back to safely guide him through the mass of curious onlookers and reporters who were trying to fire questions at him despite the fact that orderlies were yelling at them to restrain themselves. The loud noises and the many people made her very conscious of her extended abdomen that she instinctively shielded with her other hand. Her eyes met Charles' as he turned around at the defense table to look toward the entrance. Stroh wasn't present yet and for that Sharon was oddly grateful as she ushered her ward towards his seat in the first row. She returned Charles' nod politely. They hadn't spoken since Fritz Howard and his agents had told them that the men who had ordered the hits on them were now all safely behind bars. Charles looked healthier and less burdened and she could clearly see traces of the attentive young man she had fallen in love with all those years ago. She smiled inadvertently and turned away from him to take her seat next to Rusty.

With the maturity her foster son had acquired through life on the streets, she sometimes forgot how young he was, but today she could see it clearly in his tense face. She reached out and brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead. He was wearing a suit jacket with jeans and a shirt as she had insisted he'd wear clothes that he felt comfortable in, not a full suit that would make him feel dressed-up. He had also finally agreed to a visit to the hairdresser which prevented him from continuously having to push his hair away from his eyes.

"It's going to be alright, honey," she assured him, squeezing his cold hand in her lap. "You'll be perfectly fine and then this nightmare is going to be over."

This one, at least, as she had yet to talk to him about what she had found out when talking to Vladimir Karkaroff.

"Thanks for being here," Rusty whispered as they were commanded to rise for the judge's entrance.

"Always," Sharon whispered back, feeling moved by the fact that he made no move to pull his hand from hers even as they stood. The judge was a thin, middle-aged woman with cold blue eyes and a strict bun of honey-blonde hair. Sharon knew the woman to be strict but fair from the news coverage of the trial and her voice was far from warm when she called Rusty into the witness stand. He rose with shaky legs and walked to the front without looking back at Sharon who felt his lack of physical closeness like a loss when he crossed the bar and walked past the bench to the chair. DDA Hobbs flashed Sharon a small smile over her shoulder before she got up to question Rusty.

Sharon could feel her own nervousness gradually fade along with Rusty's as Andrea Hobbs guided him gently through the events of the night of the murder and made him describe in detail what he had seen. They had practiced well together and Rusty came across as intelligent, friendly and competent. He patiently pointed out which details he was unable to remember and wasn't even shy to outline his life on the streets for the court. Sharon glanced over at the jury box and saw an elderly woman furtively wiping a tear off her cheek.

"Thank you, Rusty." DDA Hobbs smiled. "Just one last question: Where do you currently live?"

Rusty looked over her shoulder at Sharon for the briefest of moments and smiled tentatively. She wasn't sure whether he was so relaxed because he knew that this was the last line of questioning or whether he was actually smiling at her.

"I have been staying with Captain Raydor of the LAPD for the past year."

"How has your life changed since then?"

Sharon exhaled quietly. So far Rusty had been a very convincing witness and it was a smart move on Hobbs' part to establish a little more background on him so the jury could relate and see that he had come a long way from the street hustler to whom he was today.

"I go to Catholic school, for once." Someone in the audience laughed but was quickly silenced by the judge's strict glare. "I have joined the chess team and the swim team. Captain Raydor, Sharon, is expecting another baby in January, so I am also looking forward to being a big brother."

Several members of the jury were smiling by now and Sharon did so, too, at the idea that Rusty might actually be looking forward to her daughter's birth.

"Thank you. No more questions."

DDA Hobbs walked back to her table while Charles rose from his and buttoned his jacket. He looked good, imposing even, in his tailored suit and red tie. He leaned on to the table for a moment as if he was checking his notes one last time and then walked towards Rusty without looking back at Sharon or Stroh.

"Good morning, Mr Beck," he said, his voice neutral, as if they'd never met before despite their less than friendly previous encounter. Rusty had unwittingly adopted a dark, distrustful look and was shrinking backwards into his chair almost imperceptibly as the older man approached him further.

"Good morning," he replied, his voice more quiet and less sure now. Sharon found her fingernails digging into her palms as her instincts screamed at her to get up and remove Rusty from the situation. It was only Charles, she reminded herself. The man whose wound she had tended to and whom she had helped defeat an enemy that had seemed too powerful to overcome. He had finally given in and agreed to the divorce and somewhere deep down, he still felt kindly towards her. He would not hurt her child, she tried to make herself believe.

"Before I come back to the events that you described to DDA Hobbs earlier, I would like to establish some background."

Sharon could see that DDA Hobbs was about to rise and object, but they both knew that it was too early for that. Establishing background was a perfectly normal occurrence that did not warrant a sustained objection.

"Would you please elaborate a little on your living arrangements, Mr Beck?"

Rusty's eyes had narrowed and his emotions were right under the surface now, visible to everyone in the room. This was not the way Hobbs had expected things to go. Sharon could see as much from her suddenly squared shoulders.

"What exactly would you like to know?" Rusty asked woodenly.

"Well, you said that Captain Raydor took you in."

"Yes."

"Is she paying for the private school you're attending?"

Rusty shrugged. "I guess. Yes."

"And you now live with her in a high-end condo in Los Feliz?"

"Yes." Rusty was clearly uncomfortable as he didn't seem able to tell where exactly this was going. Sharon tensed along with him.

"What else is she paying for, Rusty? And remember you are under oath."

"Do you want me to like... list everything she's paying for?" Rusty now looked both confused and a little defensive.

"Objection!" DDA Hobbs finally inserted in a deliberately bored tone. "Relevance?"

Charles turned around and gave her the smug smile that Sharon had believed to be at least momentarily wiped from his face by the recent events. His slightly sagged shoulder was the only thing that still hinted at his injury and it hurt her to think of Andy who was still in a hospital bed and would need weeks of physical therapy before he'd be fit for duty again. It didn't seem fair.

"Your honor, I ask for some time to establish Mr Beck's relationship with his legal guardian who happens to be a police officer. This seems relevant to me in regard to his role as a material witness."

"Overruled. Please get to the point, anyway, Mr Graham."

Charles thanked the judge and turned back to Rusty.

"Yes, please. List a few."

Rusty's eyes flitted towards Sharon and he swallowed before he answered, clearly uneasy.

"Well, she pays for my clothes and my phone... for my flights when we go on vacation, um... she gives me pocket money..."

"When you came to live with her, you didn't like her very much. Is that true?" Charles interrupted.

Rusty looked at his hands, ashamed of what had been a difficult time in his life. Settling into a teenager's normal life with a strict mother like Sharon had been new and alien to him and she'd never held his early behavior against him.

"Yes," he mumbled. "I gave her a hard time and for that I am really sorry."

"But you did settle in after a while," Charles said in an almost warm voice. "True?"

"Yes," Rusty said.

"When was that? When did you start feeling at home with her?"

Rusty looked up at him and swallowed. "I think that would have been about two months after I moved in with her."

Charles turned on his heel and picked up a sheet of paper from the table. "So, August of last year, you'd say?"

"I think." Rusty's voice was small and tentative and made Sharon want to reach out and hug him.

"So, is it a coincidence that your cell phone was purchased on August 8, a brand new iphone, by the way? Also, you enrolled in St Joseph's August 1 and, also in August, Captain Raydor bought you a whole new set of clothes, shoes and a bike. Oh, and that was when an itunes account was set up in your name, too."

Both Sharon and Rusty were now aware of what Charles was planning to do and Sharon clenched her hands into fists, feeling powerless.

"Is that true?" Charles asked.

"Yes," admitted Rusty through clenched teeth. There was a moment of silence that Sharon knew to be very much deliberate on Charles' part as it gave the jury members time to internalize the information. She remembered Sharon Beck dutifully recounting to Charles via email what she had told her about Rusty's new life and she also remembered how confused she'd been when she had asked her for exact days of her purchases for Rusty.

"Do you know whether Captain Raydor has a personal relationship with one Brenda Leigh Johnson?" Charles now asked and Sharon closed her eyes briefly. Rusty didn't know much about her previously strained relations with Brenda which would lead to him telling the court that they were reasonably close.

"They are friends, I guess," he said quietly.

"And she is Miss Johnson's immediate successor as head of Major Crimes?"

"Yes."

"That she personally requested?"

Rusty shrugged. "I don't know anything about that."

Sharon felt her heart beat a little faster. Brenda Leigh Johnson had personally requested that she - the bitch from FID, the thorn in Brenda's side, the Wicked Witch and what else they had been calling her behind her back... become her successor? To lead the team that she had considered family? She turned her head and looked to where she had spotted Brenda when she'd entered, several rows behind her on the other side of the court room. Her smile was faint, but warm. Wherever Charles had gathered that information, it seemed to be the truth.

"So you would say she had a personal interest in, say, making sure Miss Johnson's last case is being tried successfully? That she might have spent all that money on you to make sure you remember seeing Mr Stroh here killing-"

"Objection!" DDA Hobbs sounded rather indignant now and several jury members winced at the force with which she hit the table. "Leading the witness!"

"Sustained. Please move on, Mr Graham."

Charles didn't look surprised or disappointed in the least and Sharon suspected that he was content with being able to have the jury hear his conclusion. From the looks on their faces, they were seriously pondering it. She could slowly feel the case crumble beneath their fingers. There were other witnesses, like Brenda herself, but there was a chance that Stroh would be convicted for the assault on Rusty and Brenda but acquitted for the murder Rusty was supposed to testify to. By using what Ronnie Beck had told him, Charles had managed to build exactly the case that he needed. She was too busy fighting the burning tears of anger that were threatening to spill from her eyes to listen to the few questions Charles asked about what had happened the night Rusty had seen Stroh. Clearly, this was not where his interests lay and it was obvious that he had already accomplished what he had been planning to do for months now.

Charles finally turned away from Rusty, leaving him in a devastated heap in the witness stand but then stopped in his tracks halfway back to the defense table. Sharon knew him too well to be fooled by his act. He wasn't just remembering something at the very last minute. Instead he was delivering the last blow to Rusty's credibility when he least expected it and before he even spoke, she knew with sudden clarity how.

"One more thing. Is it true that you you were arrested a few weeks ago for underage drinking and smoking pot and that you miraculously got off scot free without even having to do community service thanks to the help of Captain Raydor?"

* * *

Sharon stood in front of the court room waiting for Rusty who was still talking to DDA Hobbs. Her arms crossed, she was leaning against the comfortably cool stone wall, trying to take deep, calming breaths. FID would slap her with a complaint for using her badge in order to get Rusty off and she had seen doubt in the eyes of several jury members. Who would have thought that she of all people would end up being suspected of tempering with a witness? She would have laughed at the irony if she hadn't been that devastated. Barbara and Brenda were standing shoulder to shoulder, looking like polar opposites in their respective clothes, their backs shielding Sharon against the stream of journalists that were parading past, eager for a sound bite or a shot of anyone involved.

Charles exited the court room, surrounded by a knot of reporters who were yelling questions at him but he waved them off with a genial smile that was just the tiniest bit superficial.

"I will be with you in a minute. Please excuse me for a moment."

All three women stiffened when he approached, each imagining different ways to torture him in their minds, Sharon liked to think. She raised her chin and stood taller when he approached her with his hand outstretched. He lowered it when he saw three pairs of eyes directed at him, all narrowed.

"Sharon," he said softly, his aggressive questioning of Rusty all but a memory with the warm baritone of his voice. Before she could withdraw it, he caught her hand in his, regardless of Barbara's angry hiss at the gesture. "You know I don't want to hurt you, right? Taking care of that material witness is your job and I did mine here. No hard feelings, okay?"

From the corner of her eye Sharon could see Barbara tense and Brenda's knuckles turn white on the handle of her signature handbag. She was grateful for her friends' presence, but she knew she didn't need them to defend her. She squeezed Charles' hand back and could tell from the surprised look on his face that her grasp was as hard and painful as she had intended with the small silver band Andy had given her the previous night digging into his palm in what she imagined was a sharp splash of pain. She leaned into him, her cheek almost touching his.

"Rusty is not my job, Charles, he is my son and you need to walk away from me before I hurt you." She drew back and let go of his hand with a start, taking a long step back. "Go," she mouthed. "Get out of my sight."

For a second, Charles looked like a lost puppy then he looked from the other two women - who were subconsciously mirroring each other's poses with their arms crossed in front of their chests and their chins raised - back to Sharon. He walked away without looking back, his steps slightly shaky.

There was a short moment of silence before Brenda's gasp cut through the hush.

"That guy's your husband?" Her accent was always stronger when she was upset.

"Son of a bitch, right?" Barbara growled, her cheeks flushed with anger. "I was kind of late to the party but that was a low blow in the end."

"I told Fritzi that they shouldn't offer him immunity for the shady business he was entangled in, but he wouldn't listen," Brenda whispered, trying to keep her voice low so no one would be able to overhear.

"Would have been hard to prove intent, anyway. That's probably why they chose to make him a witness instead," Barbara shrugged. She rummaged around her pocket and retrieved her blackberry then inspected it as if it was a new and foreign object to her. Brenda shot Sharon a confused look but she knew that it was just Barbara's way of putting on a show.

"You know," Barbara shook her head in an exaggerated display of thoughtfulness then stuck out her forefinger and scrolled through the contacts. "I was going to let it slip and be a good girl for once, but unfortunately The Cockroach angered me." She shook her head with a coquettish little smile. "No more Miss Nice Guy, I suppose." She lifted her phone to her ear. "Yes, hello Melissa. How are you? Yes, good. Thank you. Listen, you're still part of the bar association's ethics committee, right?"

With that she wandered off, closely resembling a shark that was going in for the kill. Brenda turned from where she had been looking after her and grinned. "I guess that's the end of his legal career."

"At least for a few years, I suppose," Sharon said uneasily. Barbara was right as Charles had not only undermined Rusty's credibility but had also potentially made her the target of an internal investigation into her conduct. As vicious as his approach had been, she had to admit it had been incredibly effective. But then it was highly unethical, especially as he had a very shady way of gathering information.

"Are you okay?" Brenda reached out and touched Sharon's arm. "This must be hard for you."

"I'm okay," Sharon said a little too quickly as she really didn't want to think about how she was feeling right now. "I just need to focus on Rusty."

As if on cue, the doors opened and DDA Hobbs walked out, her hand just short of touching Rusty's shoulder. The boy was trembling, unshed tears brimming in his eyes and Sharon was about to take a step forward and envelop him in her arms when behind them, Commander Stevens walked out of the court room, dark blue suit stretching over his bulky frame, twirling mirrored sunglasses in his hand. He did look a little smug and when her gaze dropped back to Rusty's flushed face, she instantly knew why.

"Why didn't you tell me, Sharon? Why didn't you tell me my mother tried to save me?"

* * *

**A/N**: For every review submitted, ten dollars will be donated to the "Hitting-Charles-Graham-in-the-Head"-fund.


	23. Chapter 23

**23**

**A/N**: Warning. This chapter contains some rough language and violence. And there will be only two more!

_Ronnie watched Sharon Raydor straighten Rusty's tie. Her smile was tender and genuine when she ran her hands down his shoulders and rested them in the crooks of his arms for the shortest of moments. She said something to him that made him roll his eyes but Ronnie knew that he was not exasperated or annoyed. Not really, anyway. They walked towards the entrance together in their fancy clothes. Her boy looked taller and somewhat foreign in the expensive suit and polished shoes and Sharon looked different, too, in a cream dress that barely managed to hide the fact that she was thickening around the middle. They looked comfortable with each other, happy. As if nothing could come between them and yet Ronnie knew that Rusty would always choose her over Sharon. She was his mother, his real mother, after all and he had spent too much time with her to be blinded by Raydor's money and status. Ronnie would soon make him see that he was just a little chess piece on his foster mother's board and she was convinced that she'd dispose of him as soon as she realized that she'd much rather play happy little family with her lieutenant and without a former street kid under her roof. _

Another court room, another jury, another judge three months on and Rusty felt as numb as he had the very moment Commander Stevens had told him what had really happened to his mother. He felt exhausted by the previous months' events although most of them had constituted happy occasions. He remembered the old judge's chambers with the dark ebony inlays and pictures of smiling grandchildren where he'd been told that he was now officially Sharon Raydor's adopted son. Then there was the small, functional court room with the scuffed wooden benches and the squeaky linoleum floor where a slightly bored relatively young judge had sentenced him to sixty hours of community service and had unnecessarily admonished him not to drink again until he was 21. He remembered the packed court room in the golden afternoon sun when the jury foreman had stepped forward to hand the verdict to the judge and his relief when he had heard that they had found Philip Stroh guilty on all counts. No thanks to his testimony, he was sure, but to Brenda Leigh Johnson's fierce appearance on the witness stand. And then there was the conference room in the LAPD building which he had entered just after the new head of FID had walked out to find Sharon with an exhausted but relieved smile at the news that the investigation into her conduct had been closed as the accusations raised by her husband had no merit.

Life should have been good and yet he felt as if he was just going through the motions until this was over. His mother's death was still a concept that he was unable to fully grasp before he had the closure that this trial would hopefully bring about. Sharon was trying her best to make things as easy for him as possible and he was grateful for that. Now on maternity leave, she was always organizing one chore or another around the new house to keep them both busy. Still he found himself staring out the window of his new, bigger room into the old beautiful garden more often than not, thinking about his mother and about the enigma she still was to him. After his kidnapping it had seemed almost easy: She had abandoned him and when she'd come back, all she wanted was money. He had managed, somehow, to make peace with the fact that she had loved him all those years ago, before the drugs had eaten through her heart and had turned into that stranger that was completely indifferent to him. But then another layer had been added to her, another piece discovered of the elusive puzzle that was his mother. _Had been_ her, he mentally corrected himself yet again as he inexplicably found himself referring to her in the present tense lately. It embarrassed him and he felt uncomfortable with Andy's way of ignoring the slip-ups and Sharon's sympathetic looks.

He looked over at where she was sitting next to Andy, holding his hand. He'd been angry with her for not telling him the whole story right away for about ten minutes before he had realized that it was pointless. Sharon had been right to wait until the trial was over and the whole thing wouldn't have been such a huge shock if she had sat him down to talk instead of Commander Stephens breezing in to blurt out the details in front of everyone who cared to listen. Sharon caught his eye and gave him a small smile that was meant to be encouraging but he could see her own insecurities behind the thin veil in her eyes. She, too, was scheduled to testify in this trial and it seemed like the last large obstacle they would have to overcome before they could finally rest.

The only identical player in this trial was DDA Andrea Hobbs who was once again behind the prosecution's table with all the quiet reassurance that he had come to associate with her. She rose from her chair in her simple dark gray suit and walked towards the jury box, addressing the twelve men and women inside.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. My name is Deputy District Attorney Andrea Hobbs. I am going to prove to you that this man, Richard – Rick – Parker, did not only kidnap a teenage boy in order to gain 600.000 dollars in ransom money, but also killed a woman in cold blood. A woman who was the kidnapped boy's - Rusty Beck's - mother who used to be Mr Parker's girlfriend and who trusted him blindly."

Andrea Hobbs paused for a moment and gestured towards Rick at the defense table. Rusty's eyes followed her outstretched hand and he dared look at the man for the first time. Even from where he was sitting on the other side of the court room behind him, he could make out his blotchy skin and fat boxer's nose and the dullness of his eyes. Rick looked unfamiliar in an ill-fitting black suit and a tie that hung slightly askew. With his hair combed back and his fingernails clean, he seemed to be wearing a disguise that hid his true nature from the members of the jury and everyone else in the room. Rusty regarded the man's folded hands and remembered them clenched into fists, coming at him to hit him squarely in the face so many times before. He thought of the last glimpse he'd seen of Rick and his mother at the zoo when the man had given him one final, triumphant smile over his shoulder before he'd led Ronnie away into the crowd of people that swallowed them, leaving Rusty on his own. He still remembered the feeling of loss vividly when the zoo had lain empty at the end of the day, the sun setting and the realization hitting him that he had been abandoned. The hollowness in his heart had been so great that his knees had given way, that his whole body had been screaming without a single sound escaping from his throat. Few people had ever really experienced the feeling of being alone, helpless and completely on their own and Rusty wished the experience on nobody. Rick had taken his mother away from Rusty in so many ways before that actually taking her life felt like the grotesque final act of a gruesome play. Natural and organic in a horrifying, yet deviously logical way.

"Mr Parker and Miss Beck were approached by one Vladimir Karkaroff who had found out about them through a debtor to his bosses, Charles Graham." DDA Hobbs' voice sounded firm but largely neutral, flowing lightly and easily which inexplicably calmed Rusty down. She was not out to seek vengeance. She was just a player with a cool head who would try and bring justice. He found her light blue eyes lingering on his for the shortest of moments and a small, encouraging smile was playing at her lips before it vanished again. "Mr Karkaroff will testify to the fact that he offered Mr Parker and Miss Beck a part of the ransom money to be made in exchange for helping him lure the victim, Rusty Beck, Miss Beck's son, into a trap." Hobbs now indicated Rusty and he felt uneasy with the scrutinizing, yet sympathetic gazes of the jury members on him.

"Miss Beck and Mr Parker agreed to this arrangement and Miss Beck sought Rusty out at a wedding reception to convince him to come with her. When he refused, Mr Parker hit him over the head with a baseball bat and drugged him."

_Rusty slumped against Rick's chest, caught by one meaty arm, his eyes turning back in his head. A vision of his small body clad in a light-blue jumper suddenly flashed in Ronnie's mind and she noticed with a start that the effect of the speed she had taken was beginning to wear off._

"_You hurtin' him," she murmured and approached Rick quickly to take her boy from him. Her boyfriend gave her a wide grin. He liked to feel powerful and handling a limp body like that gave him pleasure, stroked his ego. _

"_We need to get him in the car. Vladimir set up a motel room for us. Shabby place but no one goes there." He dragged Rusty towards the car and opened the trunk. "Come on, help me get him in there."_

"_Won't that hurt him?" Ronnie asked when she saw the dirty interior of the trunk. There was a gas stain and several sharp objects that he would surely bump into during the drive._

"_Come on. How do you wanna explain the passed-out kid to a patrol officer, stupid?" She could tell that the elation caused by his act of violence was beginning to wear off already and was being replaced with anger instead. Shaky from the aftereffects of the drugs, she helped him tow Rusty's motionless body into the trunk. _

"_Can he breathe in there?" she asked skeptically._

"_Sure, he can. Ever heard of a hermetically sealed trunk, genius?" Rick clicked his tongue in that exasperated way of his and rolled his eyes at her. "You're really dumb, you know. Now come on before that Raydor woman comes running."_

_Ronnie glanced back at the fancy hotel basking in the sunlight and winced as Rick slammed the trunk shut. _

"While Rusty was held by Mr Parker, he was severely injured." Andrea Hobbs turned towards the flip chart that was mounted directly across from the jury box. Calmly, but with the slightest hint of an edge to her voice, she began to list every single fracture, every cut, every bruise and pointed them out on a picture that had been taken of Rusty at the hospital. He averted his eyes as he knew those injuries inside out and was still suffering from the aftermath of some of them now. His rib, for instance, still ached sometimes when he overexerted himself and the deep cut on his temple had turned into a faint white scar that was prominently visible when he stood in the sunlight. The DDA's voice faded into the background of his mind while he tried to generate more pleasant memories. Sharon, covered in paint, giggling hopelessly as they tried to no avail to find the right shade of yellow for the nursery. Christina, throwing him in the pool fully clothed while she couldn't stop laughing. Barbara, toasting herself with a glass of champagne after announcing that the bar association had banned Charles from practicing law for a year. He had to remind himself once again, that he was leading a happy life now with many people who cared about him and that those horrible few days were in the past and would not come back to haunt him again.

And yet he sometimes woke in his new bedroom - now completely his own down to the color of the walls and not just a former guest room with Sharon's choice of furniture and someone else's clothes in the closet – and he didn't know where he was at first. He imagined the smell of beer, vomit and the stench of sweat and he was convinced that he was back in the motel room with Rick. Sometimes he screamed, sometimes he just lay in the dark, breathing heavily with the dread settling on his chest like a heavy weight. His therapist was a friendly middle-aged man whose pronunciation seemed so much softer than he had ever imagined an Austrian accent capable of sounding. He never pushed him like he had thought psychologists always did. Instead he taught him relaxing exercises so he was able to fall asleep again after an episode like that and after a few appointments, Rusty found himself talking about his mother without being asked, suddenly eager to put his experiences into words and to make sense of what happened, even if it didn't seem to make sense at all.

"But in the course of this trial you will come to be convinced that Mr Parker is not only a kidnapper and an abusive stepfather, but also a murderer." He looked up again and felt the atmosphere in the court room fill with tension as Andrea Hobbs stood rooted to the spot, her hands in each other as she calmly told the story that Commander Stevens had done so little justice with his clipped way of recounting the events.

"Rusty was brought to a motel of the name 'Sunshine Inn' where he was held against his will, drugged, bound, gagged and beaten into the condition you have just seen in these pictures. His mother, a drug addict, saw his suffering and at some point, came to her senses."

"_He's in pain, Rick!" Ronnie knelt down next to Rusty's still form on the dirty tiles. The stench of vomit drifted into her nose and made her long for the next hit of speed, cocaine or meth. Usually she went for whatever would take the edge off, but another part of her that had lain dormant for so many months or even years got the upper hand for once. She ran her hand across his blood-encrusted forehead and felt her chest tighten. When had she last felt her child's pain like her own? She tried to remembered but found herself unable to tell when it had all changed. She thought back to when he had been a little boy and had tried walking for the first time. How he had fallen, not even hard, on to the carpet and how it had hurt her to see his little face screw up in tears. When had she begun to stop even wincing when Rick pummeled Rusty in the face? When had she begun to let all these things happen to her child?_

_The suit Sharon Raydor had bought him was ruined, the shirt collar torn and soaked in blood, the shoes scratched. The glossy new facade hadn't kept up and she could see what he was inside: Damaged goods. And it was her fault, her fault alone that she had let this happen. Suddenly the prospect of money to spend on clothes and drugs seemed less desirable. Maybe going without drugs for weeks and being forced to talk about her addiction for the sake of playing along at the treatment center had made something inside her click but she suddenly saw her life for what it really was. _

"_Shut the hell up, Ronnie. You're in this with me now and there's no getting out. Vladimir saw the Raydor bitch when she realized the kid is gone. Nearly fainted. She _will_ cough up the money."_

"_But can't we at least put him on the bed? There's no need to hurt him, Rick." Ronnie felt tears burning in her eyes as she peeled off the blindfold and touched Rusty's reassuringly warm cheek. She half-expected Rick to hit her but instead he grabbed the back of her sweater and pulled her away from Rusty._

"_That little brat deserves no better! You heard him. He wants to stay with his new mommy. Discarded you like a piece of garbage now that he found someone with deep pockets."_

_Ronnie wiped a tear away from her cheek. "He had nowhere else to go," she said quietly. "We left him at the zoo."_

"_And you know why, Ronnie!" Rick shoved her on to the bed. "Because that little brat hit me when I couldn't defend myself properly."_

"_You were drunk," she whispered._

"_We were right to get rid of him, dammit. And when we have the money, we will get rid of him again. I can't have him blab about us kidnapping him! Vladimir won't have that either."_

_Ronnie's eyes widened in shock. "You wanna kill him?"_

"_What did you think? That you'd live happily ever after with him? Did you honestly believe that bullshit you were telling him about? Big house? Pool? Dog?" He laughed. "I keep forgetting how stupid you are! Of course we'll off that little lowlife."_

_He turned abruptly and sat down on the chair in the far corner of the dirty little room, fumbling with a packet of cigarettes. He lit one and stared into space, his lower lip twitching with suppressed rage. Ronnie looked towards Rusty's motionless body on the bathroom floor and dug her fingernails into the scratchy fabric of the comforter on the bed. He looked younger asleep. Always had. Her body began to shake and for once she was sure that it was not just withdrawal. She couldn't let this happen. She couldn't let Rick and Karkaroff take Rusty's life. Her mind was going on a hundred miles per hour. What was she supposed to do? _

_The sound of the door startled her and Karkaroff walked in, his jaw set but his shoulders relaxed. He went about this business with an ease that suggested that he was used to abducting and torturing human beings. His body was so different from Rick's. Lean, muscular and healthy and his eyes were piercing, terrifying her. _

"_How's the boy?" His voice sounded cold and the accent made the words sound hard as concrete._

"_Breathing," Rick said in a lapidary tone._

"_Good." Karkaroff set his overnight bag down by the door and crinkled his nose. "What a stinking place this is." He walked over towards the bathroom and took out his phone. Ronnie cringed when he roughly turned Rusty on to his back and slapped his cheeks. "Wake up, boy," he snarled and the blinding flash of a camera lit up Rusty's face when he half-opened his eyes groggily. _

_Karkaroff let him drop back to the floor and rose. "I'll send that to her. It won't take much, I can tell you. Woman's completely falling apart already."_

"_She's pregnant," Ronnie murmured, her gaze fixed on to Rusty who was groaning slightly, his gaze unfocused. She wanted to walk over to him and give him some water, but she didn't dare for fear that Rick or Karkaroff would assault her._

_Karkaroff raised both eyebrows. "Really? Well that's good news. Makes her even more vulnerable." He gave a priggish little laugh and slid his phone back into his pocket. Ronnie remembered her own pregnancy. She had been shocked and scared out of her mind when at sixteen, she had found that she was with child, had thought about having an abortion at first. Unlike Sharon Raydor, who was always touching her stomach without even noticing it, she had then tried to just forget about it until it was too late. But then there was Rusty, small and red-faced and helpless and she'd felt a rush of something she had never felt before: love. She now felt the same tender feeling when she looked over at the boy who was just as helpless as he'd been back then. She couldn't let them harm him. Even if she had to go to jail for this, even if she had to give Rusty back to Sharon Raydor, she couldn't let this happen._

_The sudden resolve made her jittery and her knees were shaking when she got to her feet and walked over to the bathroom. Karkaroff turned from where he was about to leave through the door to the parking lot but remained silent when she crouched next to Rusty and began tugging at the duct tape his wrists and ankles were bound with. _

_It was Rick who grabbed her shoulders and pulled her off him. "What the hell? I told you to keep your hands to yourself!" he shouted at her and threw her down on the floor. Too much adrenaline was surging through her body, so she didn't feel the pain._

"_Hey, easy, okay?" she heard Karkaroff's voice from behind Rick. "Let's not-"_

_She tried to scramble back to her feet, frantic now. She needed to free Rusty, needed to wake him so that maybe he could make a run for it. The carpet scraped her palms as she half-crawled back towards her son, her mind jumbled and raw. Somewhere inside her was a small voice that warned her to tone it down, to wait until Karkaroff was gone and Rick was asleep or drunk, but her instincts were stronger and all reason was blown away by the remainders of the amphetamines in her system. There was Rick's angry voice shouting expletives at her but she had almost reached Rusty again when she was propelled off her feet. Her back crashed into the wall next to the bathroom door and the clicking of a gun made her go rigid with fear._

"_Come on!" she heard Karkaroff's voice, directed at Rick. "Get your fucking act together!"_

"_You stupid bitch. You've never cared about the little bastard before! Why do you have to start now, huh?"_

"_Let me go," Ronnie pleaded. "Please. Just let me go with him, please. Don't hurt him!"_

_Rick laughed into her face, his breath foul and his eyes gleaming maniacally. _

"_Do you think I'm stupid?"_

_She knew that she was losing out and her thoughts seemed to scatter. "I'm calling the police!" she threatened, tears running down her face now, hot and desperate. She knew she was making a deadly mistake even before she blurted it out: "I'm calling Captain Raydor!"_

_A gunshot rang out and Ronnie Beck died with Sharon Raydor's name on her lips._

"Rick Parker shot Sharon Beck right in the head and she instantly succumbed to her injuries. All because she wanted to save her son's life," Andrea Hobbs finished and stunned silence fell over the room. The case had been largely kept out of the media and so this was the first time the details were stated in public. DDA Hobbs thanked the jury and walked back to her seat where her scraping chair was the only noise that penetrated the silence that still hung over the room. The defense's opening argument was rather short as the evidence was overwhelming and the assigned counsel obviously knew that this was not a matter of a guilty or not guilty verdict. Rusty didn't really listen. Instead he looked over at Sharon who had straightened up in her chair as she was about to be called to testify. She looked uncomfortable with all eyes on her as she walked over to the witness stand. Just five weeks short of her due date, there was no way to hide her pregnancy anymore but she looked pretty in a black dress and unbuttoned jacket.

Both counsels began to ask her questions about her interactions with Ronnie Beck and the kidnapping and Rusty was once against amazed at her ability to shut away her emotions as she calmly recounted the events. The testimony was uneventful and Rick's lawyer didn't try anything fancy, knowing that Sharon was not the most important witness. She was merely there to provide some background information and testify to the ransom demand and to the events leading to Rusty's rescue. Rusty looked from her to Rick who had been completely silent during the entire trial so far. He guessed, however, from the subtle trembling of his hands that he was angry. One look at the twitching above his right eye confirmed Rusty's suspicions. It had always given him away. At some point when they had still been living together, Rusty had immediately made a run for it every time the vein appeared, blue and like a warning flashing on his forehead. Rick detested Sharon Raydor - it couldn't have been more obvious – and Rusty could see why. She was the epitome of everything he detested in a woman: Strength, independence, self-confidence. She was the kind of woman who made him feel weak and inadequate and he hated her even more for aiding in his trial. To everyone who didn't know him as well as Rusty did, however, he looked calm and disinterested in his own fate, as if there was a brick wall between him and the rest of the room. To the untrained eye, he looked as if he had given up, as if he had already resigned to his own fate. Rusty had been told that Rick - vengeful, violent Rick - had been behaving like a little obedient dog during the whole proceedings so far and he wasn't surprised. Rick liked to torture and hurt people who couldn't fight back. He was not brave enough to go up against someone his own size, much less the justice system.

"Witness is excused. Thank you, Captain Raydor," the judge said and Sharon slowly rose from the chair with a polite nod.

Something was wrong, though, and Rusty realized what it was the moment that it was too late. Rick gave a roar that seemed to be magnified by the fact that everyone else in the room was momentarily silent. He scrambled to his feet the same moment that Rick did and Andy followed a second later, still slowed down by his only almost healed injury. The two orderlies and the prison guard that stood right next to Rick in order to keep an eye on him were snapped out of the reverie Rick's former listlessness had lured them into and were just a moment too late to grab him as he ran around the table towards Sharon who was on her way back to her seat.

"You fucking little bitch!"

She froze and stumbled two steps backwards when the big man came hurtling towards her with too much force to stop even if he had wanted to. There was a collective gasp when he grabbed her and pushed her hard into the defense table. The crash was so loud that Rusty cringed at the mere sound of it and froze in his tracks when he saw Rick's bloodshot eyes directed at him while Sharon tried to hold on to the table but failed. Her heels skidded to the side and she fell to the floor, her face a pained grimace. Andy and Rusty reached Sharon the moment the orderlies caught Rick by both arms and snapped handcuffs around his wrists. Why had they trusted him before, Rusty thought angrily. Why had they not anticipated this? How could he have been able to fool them all?

He crouched down next to Andy who was already bending over Sharon. She was on her side, trying to curl into a tight ball.

"Sharon?" His voice was breathless and laced with fear for her and he grabbed her hand, squeezing it. "Call an ambulance!" he shouted over his shoulder at no one in particular and then gasped when he turned back towards Sharon. Rusty followed his gaze and found that a puddle of water was forming around Sharon's legs. She seemed dazed by the blow to her head but her eyes were firmly fixed on to Andy's.

"Andy," she whispered weakly. "The baby..."

"It's okay, honey. It's okay." Andy took off his suit jacket and spread it over her to hide the water from her view. "I'm here."

Sharon's eyes fluttered shut and her breath hitched for a moment. Rusty stared at her fingers that were laced through Andy's and he found them suddenly grip his hand hard. Her eyes flew open and she opened her mouth in a low but painful whimper.

Andrea Hobbs fell to her knees next to Sharon and brushed some strands of hair away from her pale face. "The ambulance will be here in a minute," she said, voice thin with shock. "Oh god, her water broke!"

Sharon gave another groan and her eyes closed, her body going limp.

* * *

After the painful hours of waiting back when Andy had been shot, Rusty had believed that it could never get worse. Once again, he had been wrong. It was daytime now but somehow the sunlight didn't seem able to penetrate the windows which left the room in a gloom. He wasn't alone, but he felt as if he was. Only one person had been allowed to ride in the ambulance with Sharon so he had followed them to the hospital in the car with Provenza who, like the rest of the team, had been there to support him during the trial. Now everyone was scattered across the same waiting room just like they had been a few months ago, silent and submerged in their thoughts.

Waiting.

As always.


	24. Chapter 24

**24**

Sharon felt that something was different before she was even fully awake. With a startled gasp, she opened her eyes, the dread settling in quickly. She wasn't pregnant anymore. There was no baby kicking her from the inside her womb. Someone caught her hand to calm her down and she looked into Andy's worried eyes. He looked so tired and worn that she couldn't contain the tears blurring her sight along with the splitting headache behind her forehead.

"Andy, what happened to our baby?"

The memories were returning now and she felt the painful bruises lining her back as she shifted to be able to look at him. He squeezed her hand inside his.

"It's okay, Sharon. You passed out on the way to the hospital and they had to to do an emergency C-section, but she's fine. Premature, of course, but healthy."

She took a deep rattling breath as she fell back into her pillows with relief, closing her eyes against the dimmed, but still too brights lights for a moment in order to compose herself. "Where's she?" she whispered, suddenly desperate to see for herself that Andy wasn't lying in order to go easy on her in her sorry state. She opened her eyes when she heard him move from his chair and watched him bend over a hospital-issued bassinet that stood right next to her bed.

"They want to keep her here for a while to keep an eye on her, but she's good for now," he explained in a lowered voice as he lifted the tiny baby into his arms and held her out for Sharon's inspection. She felt weak with emotion when she reached out and touched the baby's cheek, causing her to stir slightly and to smack her lips in response. Andy smiled when he saw fresh tears forming in Sharon's eyes.

"If you can sit up, I can help you hold her, okay?"

She just nodded as tears were constricting her throat and hissed at the searing pain in her stomach when she tried to get up into a half-sitting position. Andy carefully lowered their daughter into her arms and steadied Sharon's shaking hands with his while she touched the small face and hands.

"She's been holding my finger for a while when you were still asleep," Andy told her proudly. "I think she kind of likes me."

Sharon gave a tearful laugh and nestled the baby closer to her breast, inhaling her scent. "She's beautiful," she whispered. "Just perfect."

For a while she was silent, endless tears trickling down her cheeks, caused by both exhaustion and joy. The baby was slowly drifting off to sleep again, content against its mothers chest, and she stroked her temple until her eyes were fully closed and her small chest was rising and falling rhythmically. Sharon looked up into Andy's face and closed her eyes when he reached out to gently wipe the tears from her cheeks and disentangle a stray strand of hair that had gotten stuck against her skin. He reached out and placed his hand on the little girl's head, making it look tiny in comparison.

"I went outside earlier to tell the others that you're both okay, but I think they are desperate to see her and find out her name," he said, grinning mischievously. Sharon instinctively cradled the baby closer to her, eliciting a soft chuckle from him. "If you don't want to hand her over, I'll have to bring them in."

She looked at him doubtfully for a moment. "Do I look okay?"

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Tired and slightly beat-up but definitely okay, honey."

She groaned, knowing that it had to be bad but then she didn't care as much as she usually would have. "Alright." He rose and walked out of the room, leaving her alone with the baby. Sharon couldn't help but smile at the peaceful sight of her sleeping child and leaned down to plant a soft kiss on the girl's almost bald head. With all the turmoil in her life, all the obstacles she'd had to face and the constant fear that she would miscarry her daughter, she had never dared to actually imagine this moment when she was finally able to hold her in her arms. And this two weeks short of her fiftieth birthday. She shook her head, grinning at how unbelievable it would all have seemed just a year ago. And yet here she was, her heart filled with so much love that she felt ready to burst.

The door opened and she had to bite back a jolt of laughter at the sight of Provenza whose arms were straining around the biggest bouquet of flowers she'd ever seen. He was trying unsuccessfully to peek past it but his face melted when he finally disposed of the flowers on the small table at the other end of the room and looked at the tiny baby in Sharon's arms. Behind him, Rusty and Barbara came in, followed by Andy who closed the door behind them. Sharon smiled at Rusty, willing to chase the haunted expression from his eyes as she beckoned him closer. He hesitated but then sat next to her in the chair Andy had just vacated to look at the baby.

"She's so small!" he exclaimed, looking a little helpless. She couldn't object so she remained silent and held the little girl out so everyone could have a look at her. Even Barbara, who called herself "largely immune" to babies, had a soft expression on her face.

"She's beautiful, Sharon. And by the way, I am making a list of everyone we're suing for what happened today. That will certainly pay her way through college."

Sharon chuckled. She wasn't very interested in the legal aspect of it all right now, but she understood that this was Barbara's way of coping with the situation and she found her friend's concern endearing. Meanwhile, Provenza seemed to have caught himself.

"Didn't think the Spawn of Satan would be that cute," he growled but at the same time stroked the baby's forehead carefully with the back of his pinkie finger. "Will we finally learn her name now? Andy's been so secretive, he's been driving me crazy."

"Tell me about it," Barbara groaned and crossed her arms in front of her chest with an expectant look at Sharon. "Please say it's something cool like Paris."

"Wouldn't it be cute if it rhymed with Rusty? Dusty, maybe?" Provenza joked and Sharon grimaced as laughing hurt her stomach and woke the baby. She soothed her daughter back to sleep by rocking her gently while she left the talking to Andy. They had discussed the matter again a few weeks ago and had come to the conclusion that the idea she'd had right after Rusty had returned home to them was still what they wanted. She hid her secretive smile by bringing the baby's tiny hand up to her lips and kissing it.

"It was Sharon's idea, actually," Andy began, obviously hell-bent on building up a little suspense. "She thought we could name her after someone who will play a very important part in her life."

"BARBARA! Oh, you shouldn't have." Barbara stuck her tongue out at Sharon, having requested years ago that Sharon never name a child after her.

Andy grinned. "Not quite. We were thinking Louise."

"After whom?" Rusty asked, puzzled, but nodded knowingly as soon as he became aware of the stunned look on Louis Provenza's face. For a moment the old lieutenant was quiet, then he leaned down and impulsively kissed Sharon's cheek. When he noticed that everyone was looking at him, his face turned a deep shade of crimson and he cleared his throat cumbersomely. Sharon hid her chuckle behind her hand and Barbara actually laughed out loud at Provenza's obvious discomfort.

"Thank you," he murmured, awkwardly hitting Andy in the back twice. "I'm honored."

He gave Rusty and Barbara an uncomfortable look and shrugged, burying his hands in his pockets. "Well, I wouldn't have expected the Wicked Witch to ever name a child after me, but then I thought she was too old to have any more."

"Provenza, for god's sake! My wife was just assaulted and unconscious and the only thing you can think of is insulting her?" Andy complained with not as much ire as one would expect. Provenza, however, walked right into his trap.

"Come on, your wife knows exactly... wait, what?"

Provenza reached out and grabbed Andy's left hand hard to inspect it. His eyes narrowed, he lifted his gaze towards Andy's grinning face when he found a small golden band that he hadn't previously noticed. His eyes flitted towards Sharon and the matching one that glinted on her finger.

"You two have some explaining to do," he said, crossing his arms defensively. "Did I miss a trip to Vegas or something?"

"Yeah! Were Provenza and I somehow excluded from a completely legit opportunity to get shitfaced, have awkward sex and then never talk to each other again?" Provenza stared at Barbara, his mouth gaping open, but then pointedly turned away from her and the triumphant look on her face.

"Now?"

"We didn't have time for Vegas, so we went to the town hall last week with Rusty and got married," Sharon quickly explained. "We didn't want to make a big deal about it."

"Say what?" Barbara gasped. "Weddings are always a big deal! It means that two people are actually brave enough to face all the legal consequences marriage entails."

Provenza rolled his eyes at her, still mad that she had gotten him with her earlier joke. "Let me guess, your extensive knowledge of those legal consequences is the only reason why you're not married?" he asked sarcastically to which she grinned at him.

"Oh, yes. Jack has asked me at least fifteen times and I turned him down every single time." Provenza's eyes widened. Obviously he'd made the same mistake that many others did and had taken her for a not-so-old spinster. Barbara gave a satisfied little chuckle and then turned back to Sharon and Andy. "So you got married in secret! Didn't think you'd have it in you, Sharon. Do your various other children know?"

"I texted James and tried to call Laura," Sharon explained with a sudden shadow over her face.

Barbara's eyes widened. "Oh my god. What did you write?"

"Just what you think she did. James called me about it." Rusty chimed in quickly, accidentally startling little Louise who caught his pinky finger to then contently suckle at it.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" Barbara asked.

"Of course I didn't." They exchanged secretive glances.

"Didn't tell me what?" Sharon asked suspiciously when both of them burst out laughing. Rusty was the first to recover and leaned in slightly, his free hand on her arm, presumably to soften the blow of what he was about to say.

"You often sign your texts with 'LOL'."

"Yes. So?" Sharon was confused.

"Sharon, it doesn't mean 'lots of love'."

She looked from one inhabitant of the room to the other with a questioning look. "Then what does it mean?"

"It means 'laughing out loud', so it's an acronym for laughter. James called me because you texted him 'Andy and I just got married. LOL.' He wasn't sure whether you were joking."

"Oh my god!" Sharon covered her face with her free hand while everyone around them burst into fits of laughter. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Barbara shrugged. "Because it was cute."

Sharon moaned, still shielding her eyes. "I'm the worst. I'll never abbreviate anything in a text again."

Rusty snorted. "As if you ever got the time not to. Took me at least ten texts to figure out what 'D R' is supposed to mean."

"Dear Rusty! How is that so hard to understand?" Sharon asked, shaking her head in honest confusion. Andy walked back towards her bed from a still morose Provenza and sat down on her bedside.

"I'd like to stray from Sharon's lack of skill in the texting department for a moment to assure you that we were planning on having a small party or something as soon as everything is settled at the new house. So there will be enough time for all of you to get drunk."

"Except you, Rusty, you're not 21," Sharon warned with a yawn.

"Thanks for reminding me. I had forgotten all about that," Rusty replied sarcastically.

Andy kissed Sharon's hair, noticing that her eyelids looked heavy with exhaustion so he placed one arm over hers holding the baby and guided her head to his shoulder so she could rest. Provenza seemed to get it and grudgingly held the door for Barbara while Rusty got to his feet as well, a little reluctant to leave just yet. Sharon smiled up at him.

"I heard your stomach grumble, honey. Get something to eat, will you?" He nodded and bent down to kiss her forehead, making her smile in the process. A little embarrassed at his own gesture, he quickly slipped out, leaving the new parents alone again.

Sharon snuggled into Andy's side as tightly as their slightly awkward angle would allow and watched their daughter sleep while gently tracing her tiny cheekbones with her fingertip. It was hard to imagine that just a few hours ago, she'd been on a court room floor, terrified by the fact that her water had broken so early. The moment Rick Parker had come running at her, she had felt frozen to the spot and unable to run or protect herself. She didn't want to imagine what would have happened if he'd managed to propel her squarely into the table or if the surgery hadn't been performed soon enough, but here she was with a healthy and content daughter in her arms. She felt her eyes droop and hummed gratefully when she felt Andy's arm steadying her hold of the baby so she could cradle her against her chest without actually having to support her weight. When her eyes fell shut, she felt Andy's free hand stroking her temple soothingly as his lips rested against her forehead.

"You know, I almost had a heart-attack when you told me that you were pregnant," he told her.

"Hmmm, I noticed." She smiled without opening her eyes.

"I was so worried when you were constantly throwing up for weeks, but I'd never expected as baby to be the reason. It was quite a shock and at first I didn't think I could do it. But now it feels so right."

She was too tired to answer so she just turned her head and kissed his shoulder in response before she completely drifted off to sleep.

* * *

James had made a dash for the nearest airport the moment he had received Rusty's text telling him that his mother was at the hospital and now, a mere few hours later, he was standing in front of her room, catching his breath for what seemed like the first time since he'd left his dorm room. He poked his head in and found her sleeping in her hospital bed with a baby nestled in her arms, Andy Flynn holding both of them tightly with a soft expression. The clearing of James' throat made him look up and touch his mother's shoulder. She stirred and blinked sleepily against the light.

"You have a visitor," Andy told her and released her from his arms so she could turn towards James. She smiled and stretched out her free arm to pull him into a firm hug. He wrapped his arms carefully around her and tried to catch a glimpse at the baby between them. She looked fine, just as Rusty had told him she would, but a little more helpless than he had expected with her eyes still closed and her small fists clenching and unclenching very slowly. His mother caught his gaze and shook her head slightly.

"Don't worry. She's perfectly fine. I'm so glad you're here." She smiled and kissed his cheek. James was sorry to see tears glistening in her eyes as he sensed the unspoken question hanging between them. He always found it difficult to deal with his mother when she was hurt because he had grown up with her as such a strong, protective figure. Usually it was Laura who coaxed her out of her shell to comfort her, but this time he would have to step up. He looked up at Flynn and a look of understanding passed between them.

"How about I take Louise outside to see the rest of the squad? They've been waiting patiently to meet her." He gently cradled the baby against his chest and smiled at her. "Come on, sweetheart. Daddy's going to introduce you to the rest of the bunch."

James watched as a besotted smile lit up his mother's face while she watched Flynn interact with the baby. He had never seen her look at anyone like that and over the course of the last few months, James reckoned, Andy Flynn had proved himself worthy of her affection. He seemed like a good, honest guy and, as opposed to his very first reaction to the news of his mother's pregnancy, James didn't feel shocked or disgusted anymore. She seemed genuinely happy and he knew that she deserved it after such a long time of being alone. He took her hand to get her attention and she turned her head towards him.

"I'm glad she's here," he said quietly, unsure how to put his feelings into words. "I can't believe how tiny she is... was I ever that small?"

"You weren't quite that small," she explained, smiling again. "She's early. You were right on time." She ruffled his hair and he did not draw back although he didn't like it when she messed with his elaborate hairstyle. Sensing his discomfort anyway, she pulled back her hand. "Sorry. With her gone I am not sure what to do with my hands. When you were just born, I refused to let go of you as well."

"But then you didn't have any competition for holding me, did you?" James asked somewhat sadly, realizing how hard it must have been for her back then.

"Barbara was there but she ran screaming to the hills when it came to handling babies." She chuckled. "But Laura wanted to hold you all the time. She was still so small herself. Barely two years old and I had to basically hold the two of you in my arms so she wouldn't drop you."

They both looked at each other in silence for a moment, then she brought her hand up and wiped a tear from her eye. Through all the happiness the new baby brought her, he could still see her exhaustion and the bruise on her temple stood out prominently. She looked down at her hands and failed at her attempt to smile.

"How's Laura doing?" she asked quietly.

Attending the same college, James saw a lot of his sister around campus, so he told his mother about her success in class and the fact that she had recently joined the debate team. He could see that she was proud and saddened at the same time. He dreaded the question that he knew was bound to be asked sooner or later.

"She didn't return any of my calls. Or texts or emails, for that matter."

"I know. She's still... she's very angry. I told her how great Andy is and that he even went as far as taking a bullet for you and I think she doesn't really mind him so much anymore."

His mother gave him a quizzical look. "Then the baby is the problem?"

He shrugged uncomfortably, wondering how he could make her see that he disagreed with Laura while having his sister's back at the same time. The brutal truth seemed a bit much for his exhausted mother, but he saw no other way around it.

"She thinks you should have given Dad the money instead of taking the risk of trying to find the people who were after us. And now Dad's license to practice law has been suspended for a year until further review because someone tipped the ethics committee off regarding the whole business with Sharon Beck and those investments. She... She is blaming you."

He watched as his mother pressed her lips together and nodded. "I don't agree," he quickly added. "I think you did the right thing and I guess you don't have a say in what Barbara tells her friends with the bar association, right?"

She shook her head. "I could have asked her to keep quiet, but I didn't. I thought he deserved it."

James nodded. "Rusty told me about that day in court. That was pretty harsh." He looked away. "He's started drinking again. It's not that bad yet, just a couple of glasses of wine, but we're worried."

He regretted his words immediately when he saw her devastated expression. "It is certainly not your fault, Mom. You could have gone a lot harder on him after everything he put you through. Maybe Laura will see that, too, when she comes to her senses." He took his mother's hand in his own. "She's not a bad person. You know that. Dad just poured his heart out to her and she is acting all protectively. She's a bit like you that way. Just sans your cool head."

She leaned in to kiss his forehead but winced, placing her hand on her abdomen with a grimace. Slowly lowering herself back into the pillows, she regarded him warmly.

"I am so glad you're here, honey. How are you dealing with everything? You do know that I would never ask you to take sides in this whole debacle, do you?"

"I know that, Mom. I do. I'm glad you're alright, I am excited to see the new house and my little sister is just precious."

"Speaking of which..." Sharon grabbed her phone from the nightstand. "Andy took a picture of her while I was still out. Maybe you could send it to Laura?"

"Why don't you do it? I don't see anything wrong with your hands," he teased and she gave him a sheepish look.

"Because I don't know how it works."

"It's super-easy, Mom. Look." He showed her the wonders of her iphone but he could tell that she wasn't really listening. He really hoped that Laura would come around. And soon, preferably.

* * *

There was a knock at the door and Sharon looked up from where she was showing Rusty how to hold her tiny daughter properly to see DDA Hobbs walk into her hospital room. She was recovering well from the C-section but the doctors were keeping both her and her baby for a few days so she was grateful for every distraction. The DDA was carrying a bouquet of flowers and a small toy cat, a wide grin on her face.

"Hey Captain," she said. "Hello Rusty."

"Andrea," Sharon smiled back at her. "How nice of you to drop in. Have a seat, please."

The other woman came around and inspected the small child in Rusty's arms before she busied her hands with arranging the flowers in a vase.

"I hope she is a cat-person," she said, handing Sharon the fluffy toy.

"Right now she is just a sleep- and milk-person but she will be, I am sure," Sharon answered. "Thank you."

After DDA Hobbs had made sure that both Sharon and Louise were fine, she adopted a more serious expression.

"I have to admit that this is not just a social call. I am also here to give you news about the trial." She glanced apologetically at Rusty when he tensed and waited until Sharon had taken the baby from him and settled her comfortably in her own arms before she resumed. "He was found guilty, as was to be expected, and will be sentenced soon. It is to be expected that he'll never see the outside again." She smiled tentatively. "I know this was very hard for the both of you, but it's over now." She didn't wait for them to recover before she resumed, apparently eager to get everything off her chest. "There is also something else. He broke down in the cross when he took the stand and admitted to the whole thing, so we can be sure that Karkaroff told the truth."

"I bet Rick's feeling mighty sorry for himself," Rusty said with disgust.

"Of course. These types always do. Cried on the stand but not because of what he's done but because he doesn't want to go to jail."

Rusty made an angry fist that Sharon quickly covered with her hand. "It's over now, Rusty. You're rightfully angry, but you have to let it go. He's going to rot away in prison while you can move on. He can't hurt you anymore."

"Or you for that matter," Andrea added solemnly. "I am so sorry for what happened. We should have seen it coming."

"I am not blaming anyone but Rick," Sharon assured her but they were all well aware of the fact that this might not be the case if things hadn't gone so smoothly in the end. Louise began to whimper and Sharon flashed the others an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. She's hungry."

"Ugh." Rusty shot out of his chair. "I have places to be," he said quickly. "Different places." And with that, he was out the door. Andrea grinned and rose, squeezing Sharon's arm one last time before she, too, left. Sharon watched her daughter suckle contently and glanced over at her silent cell phone on the bedside table. With a sigh, she buttoned her pajama top and leaned back in bed, placing Louise on her chest and rubbing her back so she could go back to sleep. She just hoped that while she had gained one daughter, she hadn't lost another.

**A/N**: Some fluff was in order to make up for 24 angsty chapters! :) While there is only one chapter left to go, I'm wondering whether anyone's interested in a sequel. I probably wouldn't write it right away and it would be more in the spirit of "Rusty Beck - Marriage Broker"... what do you think?


	25. Chapter 25

**25**

Andy looked up from where he was unpacking a box full of books and found Sharon leaning in the doorway to the living-room, watching him. He wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there for but a small smile was playing at her lips and he found himself marveling at the way the early afternoon sunlight illuminated her face.

"Hey, honey. Tired of unpacking already?" he asked her with a sly grin. Heavily pregnant as she was, Sharon had already done a lot more than he would have ever expected her to be capable of. She narrowed her eyes playfully as she walked towards him, one hand caressing her extended abdomen and he reached out so his could join hers. His fingers brushed the silver of the engagement ring he'd given her weeks ago at the hospital, having had dispatched Provenza to finally buy the one he'd had his eye on for months.

"I just wanted to show you something and maybe score a little massage later. All that bending over boxes is wrecking havoc on my back."

He mock-saluted. "Anything you want, Captain."

She smirked and held out a framed picture. "I found my wedding picture. You told me that you wanted to see it when we attended Amy's wedding, remember?"

"Absolutely." He grinned. "Let me check out the eighties horror."

He took the frame from her and turned it around. A wide grin spread over his face at the sight of a young Sharon in a truly hideous wedding gown complete with a giant veil she was clearly struggling with.

"When exactly did you make the transition from fashion-victim to fashionista?" he asked her jokingly.

"You wanted to see it," she said, shrugging with a grin. "I never said it would be pretty."

He discarded the picture and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Despite her round belly, she was still her petite self and fit snugly into him. He felt the baby kick at the sudden pressure and sought Sharon's lips with his, engaging her in a long kiss. She hummed as they came apart and opened her eyes to smile up at him.

"What?" she asked softly.

"Marry me."

"I already agreed to that."

"I mean tomorrow."

Sharon gave him a rather shy smile and ran her hand down her bulging abdomen.

"You know what the doctor said. No airplane flights or long car-rides just to be sure."

"I know. It doesn't have to be Vegas, though. I don't want to get married to you for the event, Sharon. I want to get married to you because I want to be with you and because I know you're more catholic than you admit to being."

She chuckled at the last part and cocked her head. "Good point, Lieutenant Flynn. Let's just not tell anyone and do it first thing in the morning."

He leaned in and grazed her bottom lip with his teeth. "Can I call you Captain Flynn at work? It sounds like a bit of a promotion," he asked playfully.

"No, you can't. I was Sharon Raydor for almost fifty years and I won't change it now."

"What about her?" She looked down at where Andy had placed his hand over the kicking child inside her then smiled up again.

"Are we still in agreement about naming her after Provenza?"

"I'm not so sure," Andy said. "Provenza sounds like a weird first name to me."

She swatted his chest with a smile. "So Louise is still a go?"

Andy nodded. "Louise Flynn sounds good to me."

"So does Louise Raydor," Sharon said challengingly.

For a moment they just looked at each other then they both yelled in unison: "Rusty!"

* * *

Even in his groggy state, Andy had offered to get up and rock Louise back to sleep, but he hadn't put up a fight at all when Sharon told him to stay put. Major Crimes had caught a complicated case a couple of days ago and he'd been home late anyway, so she didn't feel comfortable depriving him of what little sleep he had left until he would have to return to the office early in the morning. While she did miss the action, she was glad that she would have the opportunity to sleep in and then enjoy a quiet day at home. She slipped out of bed and struggled to her feet, the scar across her abdomen still aching slightly after three weeks of recovery. Pulling on her bathrobe and carefully tying the belt around her sensitive middle, she went to the far corner of the room to pick up her crying child. Louise's face was flushed and her little fists were punching the air at the perceived outrage of not having been tended to within the first two minutes of her crying. She stilled a little when Sharon cradled her against her shoulder and rubbed her back soothingly. Even after twenty years she'd settled back into this routine fairly easily. Maybe it was like riding a bike, she thought.

Unwilling to disturb Andy any further, she carried her daughter downstairs and walked into the kitchen to fix herself a cup of tea. While Louise was generally a quiet baby, she'd been cranky for the past two days and nights and she knew that it would take a while to soothe her back to sleep. Rocking her gently, she waited for the water to boil while she stared out into the dark garden. They had ended up choosing the house Andy had found so interesting back at the hospital when he'd first gone through the offers. Dark parquet floors, huge windows, a solid old structure and enough space to host all of their children set in a small but beautifully grown garden had convinced her, too. She balanced the whimpering baby against her shoulder as she carried her steaming mug of tea into the living-room and switched on one of the lamps that had been framing her couch at her old condo. Sometimes she missed the place a little, but then there was no denying the spacious new living-room's charm. Bay windows were overlooking the garden that, even this close to Christmas, looked rich and green thanks to Los Angeles climate. She padded across the dark floor and settled on the large brown couch, pulling a white blanket over herself and her child.

"Now, sweetie," she murmured into the sparse patch of hair on top of the baby's head. "What is it? You just had something to eat, you don't need to be changed..."

The baby calmed down at the sound of its mother's voice and watched her silently as she spoke. "Daddy is on a huge case and he needs his sleep so he can solve it before Christmas," Sharon went on to explain. "And you better hope someone thinks of completing the necessary paperwork or Mommy will freak out when she returns to work."

She smiled as the little girl's eyes were drooping again and settled her into her lap so she could sleep more comfortably. Once asleep, she had found, her daughter could have easily slept through an earthquake. Getting her there was the hard part.

"Hey." She looked up and narrowed her eyes to be able to see the lone figure in the doorway more clearly, but then it was a lost case as she wasn't wearing her glasses. Rusty approached her in his usual nightclothes, boxers and an old t-shirt, and looked at Louise, obviously reluctant to touch her as not to wake her up again.

"I'm sorry. Were we too loud?" Sharon asked, worried that he wouldn't get enough sleep although school was already over for this year.

"No. I was awake, anyway." He sat down next to Sharon on the couch and grabbed the other blanket to crawl underneath it. She smiled as she watched him get comfortable. He caught her gaze and shook his head slightly.

"You are depriving yourself, Sharon," he said and reacted to her quizzical look by reaching for the remote control on the coffee table. With the pressing of a switch, the outdoor lights came on in the garden and dipped the whole yard into a rich dark green. She marveled at the sight for a moment and nodded appreciatively.

"Good thinking, Rusty. I wasn't aware that it looks so good."

Truth was, even though she was on maternity leave, Sharon was terribly tired in the evenings. Given the fact that she was recovering from a c-section, her mother had helped her around the house for the first two weeks, but now she'd been alone for another one and she found it exhausting to care for an infant, try to slowly get back into shape and put the finishing touches on the house at the same time. She rarely went to bed after nine nowadays.

"Yeah, it's nice. I sit like this quite often." He looked out into the garden without seeming to take in the details and she could tell that he knew this nightly view by heart.

"Do you have trouble sleeping?" she asked softly, suddenly feeling a little guilty. Since she'd come home from the hospital, Louise had been her main focus and she didn't want Rusty to feel left out. He nodded solemnly, apparently a little self-conscious.

"Yeah," he murmured and she reached out to squeeze his arm. Louise gave a dissatisfied little growl in her sleep at the shifting of her mother's body which caused Rusty and Sharon to share a smile. "She's got you well under control," Rusty pointed out. "I wonder how she does it."

Sharon chuckled but sobered quickly. "Rusty, are you still having nightmares?"

Rusty shrugged without actually looking at her. It was still hard for him to talk about his feelings, even though they shared a strong bond. For a moment they were quiet and Rusty stared into the distance again.

"Well," he finally said. "I've been dreaming of Rick. Not just the kidnapping lately but also that day in court when he assaulted you." Sharon knew when to be quiet so she just held her baby close, inevitably wondering what she would have done if surgery hadn't been performed in time. A few days after the event Andy had finally confessed to her that it had been a very close call and the shiver that had run down her spine had been most uncomfortable. "I've always hated him but although he kept beating me up, he was never a very important presence in my life. I think I always knew that he was weak and pathetic, really. But then he almost took everything from me. My freedom, my mother, my little sister..."

With a start they both realized that the mother he had just referred to was not Sharon Beck but Sharon Raydor. She tried a tentative little smile, unsure as to whether he would like her to acknowledge it or not. Rusty shook his head slightly.

"The thought of him in jail, still being alive and there irks me, Sharon. It's as if he should have... I don't know... stopped existing. I don't want him dead or anything, but... I don't know. He still exists and somehow he is in my nightmares," he finished weakly.

"What does Dr Freud think about this?" Sharon asked softly. Rusty's therapist's name wasn't actually Dr Freud but they had taken up jokingly referring to him like that because he was Austrian.

"He says it's normal. Apparently my subconscious is trying to deal with the trauma. I've been reading up on it."

"Have you?" He grinned at the surprise in her voice.

"Yes. Psychology is quite interesting- stop it, Sharon!"

"Stop what?" she asked innocently, unsuccessfully trying to wipe the eager expression off her face.

"You're wondering whether that might be something I am interested in profession-wise."

She tried to look cute by lifting her sleeping baby and burying her face in her blankets but Rusty wasn't fooled. Louise smacked her lips in her sleep and for a moment they both froze, worried that they might have woken her and were now in for a disgruntled bout of crying, but her eyes didn't open and her breathing remained deep and steady.

"Maybe I am. I just want you to be happy, Rusty."

"I know." He gave her a grin to show her that he wasn't annoyed by her enthusiasm. "Maybe that really is something I would like to do. Knowing things about the human mind helps me understand the people around me. Helps me find my place somewhat."

Sharon smiled proudly. "That sounds great. You have good intuition and you're very wise for your age. I'm sure you would do very well."

Rusty pointed at Louise. "Ever wonder what she'll be someday?"

"No," Sharon said quickly. "She's never going to grow up because she'll stay my small cute baby forever."

"Yeah?" Rusty asked playfully. "So you'd be willing to give up sleep for the rest of your life?"

Sharon crinkled her nose. "You're right. Probably not. I hope she will be a strong, tough and happy woman someday."

The sudden silence between them made Rusty feel as if Laura was a presence in the room with them although her name hadn't even been spoken yet. He watched Sharon gently rock her infant-daughter while he knew that her thoughts were with her other one. Sharon was a master at hiding her emotions, but he knew her too well to be fooled and could spot the subtle signs like the tightening around her eyes and her slightly clenched teeth.

"Did Laura call for your birthday?" he asked finally, having wondered about it ever since five days ago when they had celebrated Sharon's fiftieth birthday with an early dinner and an early night. She was still recovering from surgery and so they had decided to postpone further celebrations until she was back on her feet. Sharon shook her head almost imperceptibly, biting her lip. Rusty frowned, displeased. Laura had been stubbornly refusing all contact with her mother ever since she'd confronted her at Susan's house which made for almost five months of silence and he had hoped that she would get over herself by Sharon's birthday.

"Charles called, though. He was drunk and called me a traitor."

"Well, that's charming."

She shook her head regretfully. "Maybe Laura is right, after all. Maybe I should have kept Barbara from reporting him, maybe I shouldn't have informed the FBI and just paid up. That would have probably kept him from starting drinking again."

"Sharon, all of this is his own doing. Nobody forced him to break the law, nobody forced him to get into shady business and I'm sure as hell that nobody forced any alcohol down his throat. You just reacted and he deserved what he got."

There was a glint in Sharon's eyes that suggested the imminent arrival of tears and Rusty's heart broke for her. This was supposed to be a happy time for her with the new baby and the great new house, but instead she had to worry about her ex-husband's mistakes that still impacted her life.

"Yes, but what I did to him impacts our children. They were just beginning to form a firmer bond with him after I kept them away from him for so long and now he drinks again which is the exact reason why I did what I did back then."

Rusty shook his head in sympathy. "Sharon," he said insistently. "I understand what you mean, but your kids aren't small anymore. They used to be babies and then small children that he couldn't be trusted with in his drunken state. They are adults now and they can form their own relationship with him. I am not saying that it isn't hard on them, but you protected yourself and your family and you have nothing to blame yourself for."

"Laura doesn't think so," she objected quietly. The baby seemed to be sensing its mother's distress and began to whimper.

"Laura is upset. She'll come around. You've always been a great mother to her and she'll understand at some point."

"Rusty..." Sharon's eyes were now brimming with tears and he realized that she wasn't trying to hide them from him anymore. They had come such a long way together and their sitting here in the middle of the night and talking about past regrets felt as natural as if they'd always been mother and son. He rose from his seat on the couch and sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her and Louise who stilled and watched him with intrigue from where she was cradled against her mother's chest.

"I love you, honey," Sharon whispered.

"I love you, too, Sharon."

They were both a little embarrassed when they came apart and shared a shaky smile that meant that none of them knew exactly how to continue their conversation after what had just happened. Rusty returned to his seat on the couch and looked out into to garden green, enjoying the soothing view while Sharon whispered calming words to her daughter.

"I have an idea," she broke into his thoughts.

"What's that?"

"You don't have school tomorrow and I am still on maternity leave, so we could just stay awake and watch a movie."

Rusty's head snapped up in surprise. Sharon was always strict about bedtimes even when he was on vacation and proposing to stay up all night wasn't at all like her. But she did mean it, he could tell from the excited grin on her face at breaking her own rules. It was almost a bit cute. Rusty clapped his hands together once, well-aware that the gesture would remind her of the fact that beneath all the adult talk, he was still just a teenager who loved his movie nights. She took his enthusiastic reaction as confirmation and rose from her spot on the couch.

"I'll get this little lady to bed while you choose a movie and then we'll have popcorn."

"And twizzlers," Rusty added happily.

"I don't remember buying any," Sharon said with narrowed eyes.

"Andy did," Rusty grinned. "He is able to buy stuff that isn't on your shopping list, you know."

Sharon gave a small growl. "That man..!"

"You've got to admit that he is pretty useful, Sharon." Rusty indicated the wide range of dvds that was a stark contrast to the small choice that was hers and consisted merely of independent movies he'd never heard of.

"Hm, sometimes." That said, Sharon vanished up the stairs.

* * *

Andy was surprised not to find Sharon in bed with him even though he could hear Louise's inarticulate morning squeals coming from the small crib. He rose and carried the little girl into her room where he changed her and put a fresh jumper on while she watched him curiously. She had to be hungry so he hoisted her up in his arms and told her that they would go in search of her mother who was the one capable of providing breakfast. He walked downstairs and stopped in the living-room, surveying the both unusual and amusing sight. The TV was flickering but muted and several candy wrappers were strewn across the coffee table on which an empty tea mug and two empty cans of coke were sitting. There was a huge, half-empty bowl of popcorn in Rusty's lap that he was holding on to even in sleep, his head against the back of the couch, muffled snores coming from his mouth. Sharon was next to him, snuggled against his shoulder as much as her hurting scar allowed, looking a little dazed. Andy walked around the couch and into her field of vision and grinned at her. She looked a little guilty for a moment, then sat up.

"What's the smiling about, Lieutenant Flynn?" she asked teasingly, not ready to fully rise yet.

"I just realized that fun was had without my presence," he pretended to pout. "While I am sleeping the sleep of the just, working every day to feed my family, everyone else is chillin'. It's simply not fair."

She snorted in mock annoyance.

"There's a scar across my abdomen. Want it? It took a while and several pillows to find a comfortable position on this couch."

Flynn rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. "Am I in for another guilt trip?" He held out his free hand to help her up from the couch and handed her the baby who gurgled happily at the sight of its mother.

"I think we should let Rusty sleep," Sharon whispered. "I fell asleep at some point but he bravely soldiered on through the entirety of 'Dances with Wolves'."

"You still don't like the girl?"

Sharon shrugged. "Not really."

Andy walked towards the conservatory and opened the door for Sharon before he stepped inside, too. Although it was a rather cold morning, the heated floorboards provided enough warmth to comfortably sit on their rattan couch without a blanket. The sun had risen not too long ago and the sky was still tinted in a light orange tone, dipping the garden into a warm glow. Andy wrapped his arm around Sharon and they sat in silence for a while until Louise had finished her breakfast. He inhaled the scent of his wife's hair and contently rested his cheek against it.

"You know what?" he murmured. "It's moments like this when I am still pretty awestruck that I actually ended up raising a family with The Wicked Witch."

She chuckled. "One would think that you'd be used to spending time with me considering all your disciplinary offenses at work."

"Do you think Louise is going to be a rule-following catholic sweetheart like you or a crazy hot-head like me?" Andy asked.

Sharon kissed the underside of his chin. "That's the beauty of genes, honey. Maybe she'll have a little bit of both."

Sharon snuggled into his side and closed her eyes.

"Rusty has trouble sleeping," she said.

"Nightmares?" Andy asked and turned his head towards the sleeping boy on the couch.

"Yes," Sharon confirmed. "One tends to forget that even though everything seems fine, there is still a lot of healing to be done. Nothing's ever really perfect, is it?"

"True, but he has everything he needs in order to heal, Sharon. He's got a home, a family and a totally cliched therapist. He'll pull through."

"I hope so," she said softly, entwining her hand with Andy's. "And he sure looks as if he's enjoying some pleasant dreams right now."

* * *

_Rusty is a little boy again and the sound of the waves that crash against the shore is louder and more threatening than usual. He makes his way through the sand that is pleasantly warm against the underside of his feet, his short legs struggling to keep him on his feet. The sun is bright and there is not a single cloud in the dark-blue sky. A seagull cries in the distance and then the sound is drowned out by a big wave that crashes against a rock. _

"_Rusty!" He turns around at the calling of his name and shields his eyes against the bright sunlight. _

_There is a woman standing in the distance, her feet bare, her hair wild and tangled. She is struggling to keep the strands away from her eyes and laughs at the futility of it as the winds keeps blowing them back. Sharon Beck is wearing a bright yellow dress that reaches down to her ankles. Her face and arms are tanned and a wide smiles graces her lips as she waves to him. Rusty walks closer, his eyes taking in the happy, healthy woman in front of him and the small basket that is sitting next to her on the blanket she has spread out. He spots a packet of crackers in there and three bananas, bright yellow like her dress._

"_Rusty!" Her arms surround him and he breathes in her clean scent, the scent he has come to associate with happy times. No sweat, no smoke, no alcohol. Just his mother. She takes his hand in hers, firmly but gently and leads him towards the sea. The cool water pooling around his feet and nipping at his ankles is a welcome change from the hot sand and he feels the urge to laugh as she pulls him in deeper. The hem of her dress is soaked although she is holding it up and she seems to find that pretty funny. _

_Rusty bends down and splashes her with water to which she reacts with a set of giggles, throwing her head back into her neck. She's beautiful and happy and when he looks into her eyes, a warm feeling overcomes him. She takes both of his hands and urges him to hop up into the air with her. He does and when he comes back down, more water splashes both of their legs. He laughs along with her now and feels her arms encircling him. He is not small anymore, he realizes as her head is resting against his shoulder now. He is seventeen again but when he pulls away to look at her, she is still the same woman who's been playing in the waves with him all those years ago._

_She lifts her hand and runs her palm along his cheek, her lips curled into a smile and her eyes wet with tears._

"_I love you, Rusty."_

**The End**

**A/N: **Posting the last chapter of such a long story feels a little like saying goodbye to an old friend. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it. Thank you so much for all of your encouraging comments and feedback. I was truly overwhelmed by your support. Since everyone wanted a sequel, I will most probably write one! ;-)


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